I’ve always been quick to acclimate to change.

For new situations, new locations or, in this case, new homes, I ride my emotional roller coaster then move on, taking the change as a normality.

It’s officially been a week since our move to the new house and though I already feel like the queen of the castle my body and mind have yet to fully relax from the rat race that was the construction of the house. It was a process, a very stressful, very new process that still has my brain whirling! So in true From Italy fashion (See: Parent’s Visit, Year in Italy and Teaching Small Children posts) let’s check out the numbers:

16: months spent in our little, beautiful apartment in Monza, our first.

6: months spent remodeling and working on the new place

12: average hours worked on the weekends

5: different estimates for kitchens

1,091: different ceramic tile options

3: average time per hour someone asked me something I was completely unqualified to answer. “What color do I want the light switch covers? Um, What color do most people choose?”

2: average times I asked what most people do…

53: new words – at least! – learned in Italian (molding, varnish, those light covers that aren’t hanging but more flat-like whose name I don’t even know in English.)

5: hours spent choosing five lamps – are you kidding me?!

1: 9-foot tall bookshelf to clear, clean, take down then reassemble.

7: possible respiratory diseases I now have from the dust of said bookshelf.

2 out of 3: times the conversation was innocently changed to the new house. “That ice cream place is really good.” – “oh yeah? I wonder if there is a good ice cream place in Sovico. Where there’s my new house. Did you know I’m moving?”

17: times per month one or the other of us had a breakdown in Ikea. Get lost? Curl in the fetal position in the closet and wardrobe section, someone will find you eventually.

I know Ikea's rat maze like the back of my hand (take the shortcut in rugs!)

3: times we called our couch-man. His final response? “Oh yeah, your bed will be here by the end of the month.”

6: months it took of similar responses to learn to just shrug my shoulders and know that someway or another I’ll get my couch.

Follow the journey:
A Year in Italy
How to Marry an Italian
My Year in Italy, in Numbers

Written by ginamussio

9 Comments

Gina

Right! Along with the non-stop stress was the feeling of how fortunate I am – definitely worth it now :)

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Gina

That’s great to hear! I hope you find it useful, or at the very least interesting! What part are you moving to?

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Gina Peart

Great post Gina Marie! I love your blogs “in numbers”. You make me laugh! xo

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25 Things I'm Really Freaking Proud Of

[…] When I first came to Italy it wasn’t such a decided move. I didn’t come with the firm mentality that I’d be moving forever. I came to Italy telling friends and family, “I’m going, we’ll see what happens. See you soon!” Then of course I got married, began teaching and moved into a house. […]

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