We signed the lease on Friday for the art nouveau flat, and the movers will deliver our things on Friday at noon. It’s a relief to finally have a place of our own, and to know that we’ll soon be reunited with all of our cherished (and now probably dusty) belongings. I am slightly worried about a couple of things, however, which puts a bit of a damper on the move-in joy:
1. We saw the newly installed tub\shower combo on Friday. I don’t think I mentioned this before, but one of the drawbacks to this flat and what would have resulted in an instantaneous veto from me had the Mr. said we couldn’t change it is the “sitting shower” in the bathroom. On our first viewing, the agent explained that a combination bathtub\sitting shower (basically a tub with a seat moulded into the back) would be installed. “Sitting shower?” I asked the Mr. with trepidation. He whispered that it wouldn’t be a problem to change it if we took the place. In the days following, the Mr.’s attitude shifted slightly from “we can change it, no problem” to “I think we can change it.” In the end, I decided just to trust his initial inclination and we agreed to take the place. He’s not as concerned about it as I am, but says he will do his best to try to fix it to a more normal shower setup. (I mean, what idiot came up with the idea of a “sitting shower,” anyway, in any other setting apart from a nursing home?) Then on Friday, we saw the shower nozzle for the “sitting shower” for the first time and entirely new fears (shared by both of us) have surfaced. It’s really, really small. I mean, we’re wondering how much water can actually come out of this thing since it’s so small. And because they chose an incredibly small nozzle, maybe that means there’s no good water pressure and we’re going to have a warm trickle of water with which to bathe every day? We’re probably just being paranoid, but I fear we may need to learn how to love being dirty.
2. The kitchen situation. I feel really, really badly abandoning the super-busy Mr. to a flat with absolutely no kitchen for 1 1/2 months. The poor guy won’t even have a freakin’ kitchen sink. He says he’s not concerned about it only because he has a million other things on his plate right now and having no kitchen is the least of his worries. This doesn’t exactly alleviate my guilt. On Saturday, we actually found a range from Ikea that we both like:
The problem, however, is that the Mr. says he just doesn’t have the energy to delve into planning a kitchen right now, which is fair enough given his work. After much discussion we’ve decided that although it’s inconvenient for him, it makes sense for me to go now and to wait on planning and ordering the kitchen until July when I’m back. Alternatively, kitchen-planning faeries might show up and take care of everything for us, but I guess I won’t hold my breath waiting for them.