Anyway, last week, me, my parents (who were kind enough to loan me money when the bank wouldn't stop stalling), our lawyer, our real estate agent, the sellers, their lawyer, their agent, a representative from the building's management company, and reps from the two banks the sellers had mortgages with, all sat down in a tiny conference room and signed a whole bunch of papers and checks, until they finally slid the keys down the table to me. It was symbolic, like getting your diploma, and I loved it. Even though I will be paying my parents back for the rest of my life (better than giving BOA any more of my money).
So after 3 weeks of commuting from CT, I wasted no time, moving in the next day. I had movers get my stuff back out of storage and into the new apartment, and then my parents drove in our vintage 1984 Toyota van (in auto terms, anything over 25years old is considered an antique. So glad I'm not a car) full of newly acquired tag sale furniture, which we schlepped in ourselves.
Then the process of arranging, unpacking, and organizing began, as my parents headed back to the suburbs. Man are my muscles sore. I think the furniture is all in the right place, minus the couch I haven't yet bought and the chairs that go to a table I don't have, and might not be able to fit.
But the first priority for my 2nd floor street view apartment was blinds. As much as I love natural light, I'm less of a fan of street lights blazing all night, and pedestrians gazing in at me while I change my clothes. That called for a trip to Bed, Bath, and Beyond, and then a frustrating hour of trying to make sense of the instructions, use my cordless drill/screwdriver (which is amazing, I recommend everyone have one), and get the damn blinds to snap into place. I haven't even been able to get started on curtains yet. But here is a glimpse of my little work in progress, mine all mine: