Unless you've stuck a Jack Bauer tracker chip in my car, you wouldn't know where I am at this moment unless I told you. So I will, because that is quite truly the purpose of this post.
Wait a minute.
Can't remember her name
Erin R. F.
Shannon F. M.
Those 34 names you see above you are the names of all the people I've ever called roommates. Most of them are truly lovely human beings, and I still love them like you wouldn't believe. A few of them, meh, hmmm.
But back to the point: Where I am. I am sitting right here in an apartment which now houses alone my final and most hunky roommate, waiting for the fridge to be delivered. I'm trading the life of sharing space with another party's nail polish and Nora Efron movie collection with sharing space with electric shavers and neckties. My mind is blowing, but in the very best way.
And the internet works. Hello, new digs.
And if you come on Saturday, we will have Meri Eaton's caramels in abundance.