It's raining here now; beautiful gray rain. Yes, it's all lovely. One of the cool things about Kevin's apartment -- hey, my apartment. Our apartment. Eep. One of the cool things about our apartment is that it's in one of those renovated warehouse buildings, which means that it has huge pipes running through it (and massive steel-bordered windows, and exposed brickwork -- photos soon). I'm discovering that when it rains, you don't just hear the rain outside -- you hear it running, rushing through the pipes. Like one of those little water garden fountains, but more so. Mmm...I didn't write that today. I wrote it just about a year ago, plus a few days -- May 8th, 2002, the day after I moved in. I glanced across that entry recently, while looking for something else, and I was reminded about it just now because it's raining heavily again, spattering the cars parked below our window, rushing through the metal pipes. I have the window thrown wide open, something Kevin would have fretted about this time last year, when the rain would have come in and wrecked the finish on the wooden floors. Now he indulges my desire to have the window stay open -- we've got a carpet in that area now, so the wooden floors are relatively safe.
I had a paper to write that day, and I have one to finish writing now. I was having trouble concentrating on it, so I spent a while curled up with Kev instead, watching tv. It was comforting. Now Kevin's gone to lie down and I've come back to my computer, lit a couple of candles to help me focus, dimmed the kitchen lights. I'll write some more of the paper soon. But maybe I'll sit for a few more minutes first, watching the rain fall outside my window, listening to the water rushing through the pipes.
The paper will get done. And despite all the stress, despite all the surprises, so much of this last year has been so amazingly good -- there's a part of me that can't help believing that it'll all be okay. With a little luck. Knock on wood.
So far, so good.
So far, really nice, actually.