1 December 1981
Cleaning out my parents' house didn't take as long as I thought. Gwyn, God love her, handled the more emotional parts for me. We filled two spare rooms with all of the stuff we're either selling or getting rid of. Most of their furniture was pretty high end, so what we don't want, I'm thinking she and I can get a pretty penny on, or give it to someone who really needs it. There's probably enough that we don't need that we could sell, make a profit, and still give some away.
I don't know. Gwyn and I still need to talk about it more. We're saving a lot of money by moving in there in the first place. I love the flat, but it seems ridiculous to stay there when we've got a bloody house for free. It might be a little hard at first, but we did some repainting in a couple of the rooms. Hopefully it won't take too long before I think of it as my house and not theirs.
My house. Our house. I keep including Gwyn in most of what I think about the house and our living situation. Our lives in general. I think that says a lot. Suffice to say, I'm not letting that girl go anytime soon.
It's weird how fast a house can get cleaned up with a few waves of a wand. A couple of rooms can get painted while I'm working on other things. Never really thought about it like that before. Never needed to, I guess. Good thing though. It means after work and on weekends, leaps and bounds of progress can be made.
That said, anyone need some furniture? High end shit, really. Best deals to the highest bidder, or whoever tugs at my heart strings more.
Oh yeah, and Gwyn? Want to go the Ministry Ball? I forgot about it until just now when I heard people in the office talking about it. What do you say?