We are moved, completely and entirely. All of our possesions out of the old place and in the new place, though by no means organized in the new place. The only things left behind are a few errant hairballs that I couldn't chase down with the vacuum cleaner.
So, on the dawn of our second anniversary of meeting we woke up in the third apartment we've lived in together officially (as opposed to living together alternating between both our apartments), and our first home with a mortgage. Two years ago today, at this time of day, I didn't even know what he looked like. Today I woke up next to him, like I have been doing for the past year and a half, and curled up in a ball with him, trying to fend off the message of awakeness the alarm clock was bombarding us with. It seems things have moved very fast for us, but only because things are right. Everything that's happened for us has happened at the right time. Meeting, moving in together, deciding to get married, being forced out of our first place together into a teeny tiny little place with bucketloads of character, meeting our kitties, and finally getting into the housing market...it all worked out for the best possible result: us, at two years, planning our wedding, with a stable place to live, two lovely furballs to keep us entertained, and a a lot more adventure to look forward to.