Well, sort of.
I'll spare you the suspense and just say this up front: we got our belongings on Monday! Since then I have been busy sitting in chairs, eating off of real dishes, and sleeping on my delicious space foam mattress.
Note that I didn't say "sleeping in my bed."
Nope. My mattress is--guess where? ON THE FLOOR.
Our box spring couldn't make the turn up the stairs. Yes, really.
The movers offered to hoist it through the bedroom window. A great idea... until we measured. No dice.
The box spring is leaning against the wall in the living room, where it will remain until we move out of here. This is just fine with Jacob, who has been using it as a lookout tower. Our bed frame is in pieces on the bedroom floor.
Luckily for us, the mattress was squishy enough that they could shove it around the corner.
What sort of idiot builder designs a whole complex of apartments that have upstairs master bedrooms and stairways that won't allow the passage of a normally-sized box spring? It's not as if we have some giant bed--it's only a queen!
I am counting the days until we leave these fail apartments, with their nasty cow water, tiny kitchens (seriously, there's one drawer--ONE DRAWER), and impassable stairs.
But the end is in sight: we got base housing and will move there at the end of June! Jason is going to sign the paperwork on Friday.
This will save us a TON of money--there's no security deposit, and instead of charging a set amount of rent, they take whatever amount the Navy gives you as a housing allowance. Unless you live in a hovel, like we did when our relationship was in its infancy, rents out in town are nearly always higher than your allowance. Plus, utilities are included on base. So no electric bill, no gas bill, no water bill. Can I get an amen? Because of all the money we'll save, we'll be able to pay off our cars and our student loans faster.
Oh, and go to Disneyland (because I am actually nine years old).