no more roommate playing guitar hero at midnight

Saturday I signed a lease. I'm so excited about this I can hardly contain my joy. Finally I'll have my own space again. My own space. With only me in it if I so choose. No more judgy, anal roommate. No more litter box in the kitchen. I can keep the windows open if I want, leave dishes in the sink over night. Before putting them in the dishwasher. Keep my stuff in the living room instead of crowding all of it into a single bedroom. Finally.

The official move in is next weekend. Into my own apartment. My own freshly painted, with wood floors and an east-facing bedroom, balconied apartment. It's ten blocks south of work, thus walking distance. In central Austin. I've been decorating the place in my head since I saw it, without any regard to my actual current furniture situation. Because in my head I can do that. I have, however, resisted actually responding to any craigslist ads posted by people selling chairs or futons or really awesome shelving units, which totally displays incredible self control.