The key is the thing ...

I've got the key. It fit the lock and opened the door to my house.

Yes, I own a townhouse. It's mine. No, don't listen to the guy at the bank saying it's really theirs for the next 30 years, SCREW HIM, it's mine.

I'm a homeowner.

W O W

Letting it sink in. We are heading over there in a bit to start taking the cabinet doors off the hinges and paint. T is here with his Dad's truck but we're not doing a lot of the moving now. Right now it's a lot of packing and carrying little things over there and just sitting there to let it all sink in.

I can't stop grinning. T keeps asking me what I'm thinking or why I'm smiling and I don't know how to tell him that I'm just happy. I don't think he's ever seen me just happy. Sure when we are together I'm happier than I am normally but this ... this is a 'cat that ate the canary' type of happiness.

I know it seems like a small thing, but I'll write more and try to (over)explain when I have more time and when I don't have an adorable boyfriend sitting so close to me being so darn cute and sweet and distracting. And a house sitting across town just waiting to be painted.