Moved into the new place last week. It’s not too bad so far, but the painted concrete floor has made walking around barefoot somewhat adventurous. Not because it’s cold or slippery; it isn’t. But every so often there’s a dollop of dried paint with a sharp, pointy tip. No Internet for another two weeks, no couch for another three, but I’ll make it.
I used the wrong pan to make a steak yesterday. The oil burned and came close to setting off the fire alarm (assuming it works). Bad news: the pan is scorched. Good news: the apartment smells like steak instead of floor wax, and I have an excuse to buy a better pan.
Here’s the view:
So far, so good.