One more week, one more week, one more week...

I tend to get a little neurotic at times. Times like now, for example. With one job coming to a close, another job opening its doors, a big house to clean, a new apartment to fit into, no muscles to help load up the U-Haul and a dwindling checking account. Deeeeeeeeep breath.

OK. Better.

The bright, shiny light in all of that is the new apartment. I have one. My very own, itty, bitty place. ALL MINE! I can't wait.

It's a studio, of course, so The Cats and I will be all nice and snug in our new home. But that's OK, because it is OURS. We don't have to share. I don't play nice with others, and neither do they, so the three of us will be just fine. Especially when we want to walk around in our underwear.

The location is perfect. Quaint, happy neighborhood, barely one mile to the new job, which is in the heart of downtown, within blocks of about 32 different friends and CHEAP. OK, well, cheap by Milwaukee standards, but cheap, nonetheless. Utilities and cable are included in the rent, so you can't really beat that.

You also can't beat a two-miles-a-day commute to work, as opposed to the 60 per day I drive right now.

Peace out, $4 a gallon. I'm totally over you.


So in one week - one teeny, tiny week - life will start anew.

And please don't hold it against me if it means I change my phone number ONE MORE TIME.

WHAT?! I can't live in a 414 area code with a 608 number. Gah...