I like to feather my little nest, to make it as comfortable and as attractive as possible (within my modest means, of course). For this reason, I tend to spend a trifle more on things that will last and things that I will cherish instead of less money on silverware the handles of which will fall off in two years, or sheets that will be holey and frayed in three years. So my silverware is the same silverware I bought when I was in my first apartment at the age of 19, and the sheets I just bought (to replace the ones that don't fit over my ginormous mattress) are real linen and amazingly soft and comforting.
My upcoming move to Houston has me thinking about my nest, once again. I'm thinking about what I love and what I don't love; how I would change a few things if I could, and how my future apartment will be arranged.
A few weeks back, I visited an apartment website to try to gauge how expensive my rent will be in H-Town, and the floorplans on the computer screen set me to thinking about how I would arrange my furniture. A quick glance at a couple of them told me that there would be no place for the three custom bookshelves that hold my hundreds of volumes, along with a few precious objets d'arts and family photos. Some of them were amazingly well laid out, though, and set my little mind racing, full of thoughts of curtains and sofa placement and where my Persian rug would look its best.
So tonight, even though I had a ripping migraine earlier and I'm in desperate need of sleep, I can't sleep, because my brain is on overdrive, excited about the future, optimistic about what lies before me.
And absolutely ecstatic at the thought of a new apartment to decorate.