I loved the brightly colored mosaics in the tube station. I didn't do them real justice with the camera, but I like this shot. Of course, it's my usual, isn't it? A wall sign, at an angle? Still like it though.

On moolah:

Good news: Robbie is rich in America!

Bad news: I'm poorer than ever before in the UK!

That might be a bit of a dramatic word, but right now, it seems apt.

I spent the evening building a bed for the spare room. Another Ikea creation - which means a few hours (actually, probably just an hour and a half or so) crawling around the floor with a hexagonal wrench and a bunch of bits of unfinished wood. I had to whip out the power drill at one point to screw in some of the beams. Thanks, Dad, for that piece of equipment - my thumb blisters would be even worse without it.

There were some extra pieces at the end - is that bad? I kid, but only sort of. There were some cross pieces of metal - but as far as my structural engineering genius could tell, they were meant to square the fame and provided no support. I really hope so, anyway. There were no pre-drilled holes to attach these pieces - as far as I could tell, anyway. It seemed, then, that if I attached them in the wrong place at the wrong angle, it was going to, uh, unsquare the bed frame - hold it at an old angle. Who knows. If it falls apart, I guess we'll know.

I unfurled the tightly packed foam mattress and it seemed both flatter and smaller than I thought it'd be. Ah, yes, reading the included note, I learned that it takes 72-96 hours for the thing to plump back up to its original dimensions. It looks larger already. It smells funny. Kind of like paint or something sythetic and chemical. The note says that's normal too and that time and vacuuming can alleviate it. We'll see. It's noticeable, but bearable at this point. Too bad it's too cold to open the windows for more air.

Sarah helped me move some furniture around. The desk is now in my bedroom where the dresser used to be. The dresser, in turn, is in the bedroom next to the bed. The stupid loveseat/sofabed is still in the room and taking up entirely too much space. Perhaps I'll try to craigslist it later on. I don't need it. I don't even necessarily want it anymore. Seems wasteful to junk it. It isn't hurting anything right now, so it can stay. A wee bit croweded, sure, but bearable.

The closet is *mostly* emptied at this point. My border will have to deal with a few items in the room that are mine. There's still a bookcase full of stuff in there too. I could move the whole thing to my room. I could also move the contents downstairs, crowd the bigger bookcase a bit more, and leave her some shelves. I'm supposed to meet with her tomorrow - I'll find out her space needs and what she can deal with until I get home.

I've washed the new bedding (Target, flannel, cute, cheery stripes [there's going to be, perhaps, a bit too much color in this room - let's call it "eclectic," eh?], but perhaps designed for deeper pocket mattress. Lots of tucking in its future; plus a new duvet and cover, from Ikea.) As soon at the mattress smells less like itself, I'll make the bed and the room will look worlds cozier. I probably should've bought a new mattress pad, but I didn't. I'll get to it later. I think I also need to make sure the mattress is rotated regularly, though how regularly, I've no idea. I see a phone call to Ikea in my future.

The loveseat is covered in Christmas presents and various other things that will have to be safely, efficiently packed by Friday. Well, by Thursday really. Oh, there should be some room for clothes too, I suppose. Details, details. And still no sign of Robbie's present. It's purely a race at this point: FedEx vs. The Clock. He has some other things coming his way, of course, but I really hope the star of the show turns up in time.

In other areas - the travel plans are moving along according to tradition. This means my head is aching, my stomach is full of ill-tempered butterflies, and my head is a dark, dark place full of worst case scenarios that I try to chase away as soon as they start to form.

Oh - and the We Are Marshall ads? Not helping . . . .

Cultivating this level of fear and apprehension take a lot out of a girl, let me tell you. And please don't leave "chin up" comments. I know the ins and outs of both aeronautics and my phobia. Once again, as with every pre-flight ramp up, I am awed by those who can just get up and go.

At least I have my happy pills.

Someone is going to use that statement against me someday, aren't they? Legal and doctor prescribed kids, legal and doctor prescribed.

So maybe weary is the best word after all. I'm very tired. It's 10:32pm and I haven't heard from Amanda yet. I also haven't called her. Which means we're both looking at our phones thinking "okay, I get to sleep if she doesn't call. But I should call. I'll wait, maybe she'll call." Sleep over gym! And Robbie gets to sleep this morning - it sounds like he's working on a good head cold. Fabulous. Not surprising though - he's been go go go for the past few weeks.

The key to the rest of the week then: the right balance of crazy busy and crazy calming. I have to occupy myself, yet leave enough time for all the chores that need to get done.

Weary. Yeah. Weary. But all will be better soon.

Today I made this focaccia recipe, except without the vegetable and cheese topping, fennel seeds, or basil, and with whole wheat flour instead of regular flour, and fresh rosemary from my "gardent" - and by garden I mean box of dirt outside my front door.

It turned out pretty well, actually. Cooked about 10 minutes faster than the recipe said, and came out just slightly heavier than it probably should have. But with a brushing of olive oil, some salt, and fresh rosemary on top, the finished baked product was tasty. No photos this time.

Tomorrow is cookie day as I practice some recipes and bake gifts for my officemates.

All while I was making focaccia, I couldn't help but think about morning breakfasts in Vernazza: strong cafe with a fresh slice of focaccia with tomato and mozzarella, sprinkled with herbs and tasting of salt air and freedom. Without the sea view, mine couldn't be as good.