Quodlibets: Shell-shocked

We have an apartment. We have an apartment. We have an apartment.

Repeat, over and over again, and that's some idea of what's going on in my head. I was pretty much sure that we wouldn't find an apartment the first day we looked, but we did. We're moving to the big bad city in July, and oh my god.

Oh my god.

That too, is running through my mind. It might be more like: We have an apartment. Oh my god. We have an apartment. Oh my god.

It's good, I promise. I'm not unhappy, or anything like that. I'm just overwhelmed and shocked and nervous and yes, a little bit excited. It's in a fantastic location, it's HUGE, and it's more expensive than we thought we might be paying. But it's so good, it's so damn good. So yeah. We have an apartment.

Update: Okay, I'm kind of panicking. Family, I know that it's par for the course, but I just can't stop saying "what if..." or "oh my god, maybe there isn't laundry in the building" or "what if we hate it". I'm just a big worrywart. I'm excited but scared, and things certainly aren't quite squared away yet. (For clarification on that cryptic statment, you'll have to contact me directly. Let's just say things have gotten slightly weird regarding our application.) And for comebacknikki--we're north, but not very far north. We're (hopefully) living in Lincoln Park. For my commute, it's better if I live further south in the city. We didn't want to go much further south than Old Town, and no further north than south Lakeview. So we ended up in Lincoln Park.

Grrrrr, I HAVE to stop panicking and worrying and being scared, or I'll be crazy by the time we move.