Holy mother of Moses am I glad to be back inside the loving arms of the Diesel Cafe. And have you ever seen a more beautiful apartment than ours? No. Nothing compares 2 it. Boston is here, and I can’t hardly believe it. It was a red eye flight over from beloved San Jose: tears from the parentals and TV from the fine folks at Jet Blue and off I go.

The girls were there to sneak me inside just after dawn (I missed move-in day) and Chels and I lay in her twin bed and caught up and giggled and anticipated the coming semester. She scuttled off to finish training at True Grounds, Lauren and I fetched some storables from the ocean (more or less)

And then. And then. IKEA. If it didn’t already have full-caps in the name, I’d have put them there. Eight p.m. Drive across town and out again to Stoughton mass. Chelsea on the drive up, “This looks like the airport…” On a day and a half without sleep, make it through the inexorable Candyland of showrooms and bright patterns, writing down bin numbers all the way. Reach, at long last, the warehouse. “IKEA will be closing in thirty minutes.” Cool. Head to appropriate bins. Empty. Shreds of cardboard - is that half an index finger - empty rows, bin after bin, of picked through merchandise.

I woke up today on my mattress. And new sheets. I have three lamps and a trash can and a couple rugs. No bed frame, no desk, no bookcase, nothing. Saturday night + back to school + Labor Day weekend + IKEA = {lapse in judgement, war zone}.

We’re here to live another day, though. Well, I’m here. The girls are out of town for the weekend and I’m cleaning up, assembling, and running errands. This is going to be awesome, let me tell you. Especially once I have a bed.