I am always where I need to be and I always thought I would end up with you eventually.

I'm right where I need to be. In bed (a real bed) with my computer (after a long day without any Facebook access) and a big hunk of Coconut Cream Pie. God--can life feel any more gracious than it does right now? Probably, but right now feels (physically) pretty damn good.

Emotionally, I'm a tad unsettled. I just signed a year-long lease and wrote a check for over seven hundred dollars. I'm not sure I've ever had that much money in the bank before (you know, as a result of good, old fashioned honest-day's work anyway) and now that I do I'm giving it over to this guy. This really nice guy who pays the majority of the utilities and takes very good care of his tenants. And on top of that, I'm telling him that I'll write him a dozen similar (though not so spendy) checks in the coming months.

Anyone who knows most things about me knows that I'm not really a commitment-phobe, I crave and beg for it, actually. Too often I've been on the heavy end of a lop-sided relationship, knowing good and well that I gave way more than what was expected/ wanted of me. There's something about committing to this place, though, that makes me feel a little in over my head. Before this, there had always been a clear plan about what the next step would be but right now I'm pretty sure I don't know where we're going after this. Which is fine, I have until Aug. 31, 2010 to figure that out.

There's one thing I know for sure, for the next six months I will be saying "I'm never moving again!!" That will be a lie, of course. But God, I really hate moving. Especially after coming off an incredibly tiring week at work (but, hey! I put in 39 hours and 54 minutes). But it's coming together swell. I know exactly where I want to hang my Monster Art. I will show you pictures as soon as I can. I want you to see what it says in the back of my freezer. I want to invite you over for a Woodchuck. You can tell me how to arrange my living room.

I need to put you to bed, though. I'm 3/4 of the way through The Lovely Bones and I've never been so hooked to a novel like I am to this one. The suspense is killing me--figuratively, of course. Obviously.