First things first: WE HAVE AN APARTMENT.
Shit. Holy shit. Holy shit, floating in the giant toilet bowl of life. That made absolutely no sense, so you just know how excited I am. We HAVE an APARTMENT.
I can't decide what the best part is.
Moving away from my parents? Moving in with Alex? Planning multiple housewarmings? Picking out our new furniture? None of the above. I'm mostly psyched about this:
Hello, gorgeous new bathroom. I'm Jacki, nice to meet you. I figured I should introduced myself now, since we're going to be spending a fair amount of time together. And for most of that time, I will be naked. Or taking a dump. Is that a newly-installed vanity I see? Excuse me for one second, I gotta go jizz.
So we found out about being the official tenants of Heaven on Cope Street at around 2pm on Tuesday. Here's how that went down:
Me: Oh my God.
Alex: We got the place.
Me: Oh my God!
Alex: Pub after work?
Me: Dude, I started drinking 20 minutes ago.
Okay, not really. But it's Alex and I; obviously we had to celebrate. Obviously at The Longy. And obviously with 2 bottles of champagne. I don't remember what time we left the pub, but at some point Richie showed up and we decided to take a little drive down the road to check out the new digs. We don't actually have the keys yet, so we couldn't go inside...but we circled the carpark like the badass apartment-renting carpark-circlers we are!
I had work at 9am the next morning Thank God (once again) I don't get hangovers. Really, the only issue with sharing 2 bottles of champagne and a Jim Beam is that whenever I drink, I either have insane dreams or wake up ridiculously early the next morning. On Wednesday I did both. Don't believe me? I wrote the draft for this blog on the back of my work contract at 4am. Oh my God, I write drafts for my blog? Yes I am a loser. But more importantly, I am a loser who lives in her own apartment.
Okay, so this dream. Probably the weirdest thing about it was that my grandparents were there. Which wouldn't be so strange except that they both died before I finished highschool. It was very Haley-Joel-Osment-In-The-6th-Sense. Only instead of getting all freaked out, I was just psyched to see them. There was lots of hugging. Oh! It was also kinda weird coz my grandpa was a completely different person. Like, looks-wise. My dream self was totally on board with it, but in reality I was thinking who is this stranger with his arm around my gran? Explain that one, Bruce Willis. I have no idea.
My friend Julia's mum (Deb) was also there. Hey Deb! She was almost as excited to see me as I was to see my grandparents. That's not so strange. I am pretty awesome, after all. We arm-wrestled in the dream. Deb won. Also not strange; she does dragonboating, so she's pretty fit.
Speaking of dreams, I had one on Sunday night that the world was ending. Apocalypse Now, baby! Apparently three meteors were heading towards the earth. I don't exactly know what three meteors heading towards the earth entails, but I assume it would involve multiple tsunamis or something equally as horrible. Sigh. I'm not that afraid of meteors, but multiple tsunamis is definitely not my first preference for method of death. First of all, have you seen my hair wet? Not pretty. And secondly, the worst thing about a tsunami? You have to watch it come towards you before you die. That seems cruel to me. I'd rather just get directly hit by the meteor with no warning. Am I right? As far as I know the world isn't actually coming to an end any time soon, but if and when it does, I'd like that to be arranged. Thanks God.