We’re straddling homes right now, with everything in boxes at the new house, and nothing but the bed at our old apartment. We’re straddling because we’re painting the bedroom and the living room with the generous help of my mother and her contractor/superwoman girlfriend. Since I grew up in a log house, I have never ever painted walls before, and I’m finding myself terribly neurotic about paint. The colors! They’re all wrong! The red is too pink, the pale green is too industrial! And my painting skills are terrible! Granted, the textured walls don’t make it easy, but still! What am I doing with this brush in my hand? RUINING EVERYTHING, that’s what I’m doing. Aargh.

Hopefully we’ll start sleeping at the house tomorrow or the next night. Wheeze.

Oh, and I rode my new bus route home last night. It was funny: quiet and commuterly for half the trip, then we hit Rainier and some drunk people got on who talked in monosyllabic mellismatic poetry:

Him: Mmmmmmmmm!
Her: Hmm.
Him: Awww yeah.
Her: Huh.
Him: Staaaaaaaaaaahp.
Her: Hah.
Him: Mmm-hmmm.
Her: ‘Assss riiiigh.