A Long Weekend in the T-Dot.

So I finally saw the condo.
And by saw I mean, I sanded, scrubbed, masked and painted half of it (not that I mind. Who doesn't like painting?), with Andrew's mother because my boyfriend is a lazy bastard. And by lazy I mean, someone who doesn't like painting so he pawns the work onto his female minions because that is the stuff we're supposed to, "enjoy doing."

Fucking twat.

Andrew has done good. The space is in my opinion, absolutely wonderful. It's the perfect size for two people and there is unlimited potential as far as the architecture goes (which obviously, makes me moist). We picked excellent colours for the rooms and even though Andrew has consistently pounded into my skull how much he doesn't care about colours, I know he became a tad interested as the rooms expanded. I saw the excitement in his eyes.
Andrew's in love with the balcony, I'm in love with the oven. We're both excited about the purple bedroom and while he doesn't give a crap about a decent sofa, I've been panicked with picking out the right one for the livingroom... So many choices! I'm buying a shag carpet on Friday and I've been rummaging through the blinds at work, hoping to find decent ones, for the least amount of money possible. It's all very exciting, but yet, very expensive.

So while Mamma Keenan and me painted up a storm, Andrew and his father attempted to put in a ceiling fan and after being defeated by it, decided to lollygag to the hardware store. They were gone for hours. So, naturally, Diane and I started to talk about all things woman: Babies, Boobs, Baking and then obviously, Boyfriends.

"I don't think Andrew's ready to move in with me."
"I don't know about that. He cares about you very much."
"Oh, there's no doubt in my mind that he cares about me. He just has other things he needs to prove to himself before he adopts a full time wife."
"Well, I suppose you'd have to talk to him about that. This is a important decision for both of you."
"Yeah. It's the most important one I've made in awhile."

So when Andrew came back from the store, he quickly said he had to go out again and I opted to go with him. We talked about me moving in. It wasn't pleasant.

"I know I'm not supposed to talk about this, but I'm really stressed out about it."
"You just couldn't pick a worse time Anna. I just got the place."
"Yeah. I understand that. But it's absolutely brutal to make these decisions with you. To paint with your mother, to put the time and effort into the place and to not know whether I'll be living there or not."
"You'll have a place to stay."
"But Andrew, I don't have a place to stay right now. I have you word, and while that's nice, if you and I break up, I can't live with you."
"Yeah, I figured that."
"I don't want to piss you off Andrew, but I'm really stressed out right now and it's becoming increasingly difficult to stand around with a giant smile on my face, pretending that everything is ok."

Silence.

"So you're not going to say anything about this?"
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"I want to know if I'm going to move in with you."
"I'm trying to think about you in this whole situation. I don't want you to have to move all your stuff here and move it all out two months later because things don't work out."
"I'll worry about moving out if it gets to that point. Right now I just want to know if I can move in."
"I want you to move in."
"Honestly? You're not going to resent me for this?"
"No Anna, I'm not going to resent you. Just pick better times to discuss issues."
"I suppose I can do that."

So I bought a lawn ornament that lights up and after we returned to the apartment to finish the kitchen.

Andrew's friends came over later that evening and while it's nice that they were interested in Andrew's new and massive expenditure, it was fucking hot in the condo and I was very tempted to say, "If you're not going to pick up a paintbrush and help, get the fuck out." But obviously, that would have been out of order. So I kept my mouth shut and kept on painting and eventually Krista left (which was nice because she makes me a little uncomfortable), and Tony returned to help us paint the night away.

It was good times.

I did manage to take my tests at George Brown. I bombed miserably. I have to take a foundations math class. I am the stupid.