Get used to it

Monday morning. The bleary-eyed search for something, anything, more enticing than a warm bed--if only momentarily, because just standing up is half the battle. Today, I knew just what it would be: lychee mimosa.[*]

I laid there for at least ten minutes fantasising about it, tasting it on my tongue, repeating those two magic words over and over. How decadent! Strolling into the office bright, early, and lightly buzzed. What better way to inure oneself against another week of indignities and annoyances?

I crept my way past the golden light entring the windows to the fridge, took out the liquor-soaked fresh lychees, tossed in a jigger, and added the orange juice. All the remained was to top it all off with prosecco from the bottle--

--that my boyfriend had emptied and tossed out that morning.

Oh, well, lychee screwdriver instead. So any attempt to arrest my infinitesimal slide into genteel alcoholism has been foiled. On top of that, a big bowl of cereal in order to use up ALL THE MILK. Take that, brown coffee whore!

[*] I know, sounds like an Asian drag queen, amiright?

WotD: sand

1. schleifen, schmirgeln
2. schuren
3. lijar
4. escatar
5. sablonner
6. grafu
7. greanáil
8. 속새질하다, 사포하다 (砂布하다)
9. 用砂紙磨光 yòng shāzhǐ mòguāng

Notes: 8. The native word is a derivative of 속새 "scouring rush", which presumably was the sander of choice before the arrival of 사포 (lit. "sand cloth"). 9. A full phrase meaning "polish using sandpaper".

Hey, Mom, I'm living with a homeless man!

As of noon today, monshu is officially homeless. That is to say, his house sale went off without a hitch. In the meantime, he's crashing on my couch like a slacker college buddy. Technically, I guess that makes him houseless, not homeless, since as he clarified at the dining room table yesterday, "Home is wherever you are."

(You may all barf now.)

This week is going to be a tough one. Not because we'll get on each other's nerves--it's amazing what you can put up with when you know it's only for a limited time--but because monshu is so impatient to get into the new place and begin putting it to rights after more than a month of living with disorder and uncertainty. In the meantime, we've been distracting ourselves by shopping for furniture, discussing names for our future cat, organising the kitchenware in our heads, and doing all the kind of stuff you do when you move in together without being so dewy-eyed as to think that you don't need all those words because you'll just KNOW what your wittle wuvebunny would want.

Still, no amount of talking is a substitute for walking, so I'm telling myself to expect the unexpected. I may have logged several years' worth of time in his apartment over the decade or so we've been together, but we all know that being a guest (which, face it, I always was no matter how familiar we'd become) is a far cry from being a co-owner. So tell me, cohabitors, what caught you most off guard when you and your SO moved in together? What did you expect would be no problem at all only to find out you were dead wrong?