One month to go

Last Thursday was the one month mark.  


One more month of being single.


One more month of not having a shared checking account. 


One more month of having my father's last name and being able to make a life decision with consulting someone else about it. 


To celebrate, Adam had a friend over to jam on guitar together and I went to Ikea.  It was glorious.  I hit up the delicious Ikea restaurant for a plate of fried food and some lingonberry juice.  

Once a couple makes it through a trip to Ikea without one person crying, or storming off, or lodging a swedish meatball in the other's direction, they have unofficially made it.  Because of our different shopping styles, Adam and I have been seen having strong worded conversations in that warehouse.  The kind of talks where every. word. needs. to. be. strongly. emphasized. in order for your point to be understood without screaming like a crazy lady and scaring all the children*.  He likes to get in and get out.  I like to browse, to compare prices, to try out sofas and beds and curtains.  His patience level decreases and hovers around negative ten once we get to the curtain section.  Me, on the other hand, is just getting started to touch all the fabrics and memorize the care labels.  


I was elated that, on our one month mark, I was able to browse Ikea.  Alone.  In peace.  I spent 20 minutes in the plant section alone.  Then another 15 thinking about small bowls.  I decided on some tiny glass ones:

good for ice cream sundaes:

(source) 

*dear parents, please drop your kids off at the Ikea play center.  your 10 year old does not care if you buy the Ektorp or the Karlstad sofa.