The morning after.

I finally closed on Our House yesterday.  After two hours of writing my name over and over, I feel like it was anti-climactic in some ways, like I wanted something more physical to show for it at the end than a stack of photocopies, a set of keys, and a sore wrist. 

Now, I understand that A HOUSE is certainly something physical, but maybe a pretty piece of paper to hang on the wall, diploma-like, with gold stars on.  I think the fact that I AM NOW A HOMEOWNER hasn't really sunk in yet.  Perhaps in 15 years when the mortgage is paid off.

After an appropriately scaled (i.e. not quite over-the-top) afternoon/evening of celebratory drinking, the Boyfriend and I camped out on the floor for the first night.  We spent an hour flipping all the switches and opening all the doors and dreaming and plotting and scheming.  We drank (another) bottle of champagne, ate Thai take-out, and ordered new medicine cabinets.  All in all, an excellent first day.  Even if there wasn't a gold star.

This morning: