This means a couple of evenings at The Canary by myself with a box of wine spent frosting these little fuckers and writing inscriptions on them. Oy! I will keep the wine scoffing to a minimum. Don't want to get too surly on those inscriptions.
I've made the conscious decision that I will no longer fret over the current state of my apartment. I still have not completed the unpacking, but it is possible for one to actually walk around now. And find stuff for the most part. I never had any intention of actually doing any cooking in this joint, so it's fine if all that stuff stays in boxes. Pictures aren't hung. Books aren't put away. Whatever. This is a transitory place to live while I'm in this transitional phase of my life. I'll move when my lease is up and hey! how easy it will be to pack. Phew, that feels better.