Last Wednesday Craig and I got the keys to our apartment. We spent that night in our all-but empty rooms with friends and a lot of bubbly wine.
Over the weekend we shifted everything we own from one side of Wellington city to the other. It was my Dad’s birthday and still, when we were left helpless* he and my mum and the sister who wasn’t busy dropped everything to help us.
I’m pretty sure it was Sunday around 3pm when I said to Craig “we really need to vacuum.” We still need to vacuum. Life has been extraordinarily busy this week.
Ill on Monday night, out on Tuesday, out on Wednesday, out on Thursday** … I am not sure when I’ll ever have the chance to get around to that vacuuming.
This guy turns 30 today. THIRTY. He remains one of my absolute favourites. My taller and hairier other half. The calm to my crazy. He was 17 when we started dating and I’m hoping I keep on with this pattern of loving and liking him more each year than the one before. It’s pretty damn perfect.
His parents are coming into town this weekend for his birthday party*** and, of course, to see our apartment.
We had better get onto that vacuuming.
* friends caught out by the 48 hours film festival, Craig’s general hatred of using movers, my bufty but not THAT bufty arms … all factors leading to helplessness.
** I’m writing this in the time between finishing work and leaving for my Dad’s (and Craig’s) birthday pub crawl (rather, a craft beer tour)
***I’ve come up with the best most ridiculous birthday surprise ever and I can’t wait for him to see it. I’ll tell you all about it after the fact.