meatloaf.

I am making it for dinner, hoping that it will be savoury and special, not at all bland, and holding even just a tiny candle to Nicholas' mom's meatloaf. My feet are sore from the city sidewalks, but I know that they are not really all that sore compared to Nicholas'. I also know that this laundry has to find its way to the washer, then to the dryer, and then back home again where it will sprout arms and legs and chins and fold itself, for that is really all it needs in order to be folded and clean.

Laundry. It has become the bane of my existence. I used to love doing laundry. I found it relaxing, and comforting, you know, in that warm, wrap-itself-around-you sort of feel. But now. NOW. Now I have to leave my apartment. Lug two loads of laundry up two flights of stairs. Put a ridiculous amount of quarters in the two machines that exist in our building, if they're not already full. Then put the two loads of laundry in. Carry the basket back down to the apartment, where I fumble for my keys, unlock the door, and finally set down my detergent and downy and basket. Doesn't sound like much of a chore, but when you have to do that every half-hour, call me, and we'll talk about what a "pain in a certain part of the anatomy" it is. Words of Dr. Park right there.

Looking into a ceramics class. Contacted a few different people, to find out about prices. They're not all bad. Pretty alright prices, I'd say. But not until next semester.

I think about our new house all the time. Not that we have one. :) Quite the opposite, in fact. I wish we had one, always, and I'm always daydreaming about how spacious and white and clean with wooden floors and cupboards with wide-open windows and sheer curtains flopping about in the breeze it will be. My kitchen will be huge, and I will have counters low enough for me to reach properly. (I do believe that if a meal doesn't turn out for the best, it is all due to the current countertops. Very high ones, they are.)

Our little window-unit heater (poor thing) is pumping out hot air, trying to reach the entire apartment, but the kitchen and the living room are the extent of its abilities. We will find a space-heater for the bedroom. It will be too cold in December and January to not have one, we think.

I feel special to have all these lovely quirks in my home. This has all been very nice, but I have to go check my meatloaf, and wash some dishes, maybe take care of a little laundry.

Au Revoir.