The new space means two things.

I don't have a small low coffee table to faint off. So I have to utter my cry of distress and then jump into Matt's arms. Which inevitably makes me snort with ridiculous laughter. (Though I mustn't on Thursday. Mustn't mustn't.)

And the floor is either laminate or just wood. Highly polished highly varnished wood. So when I slump to the ground in my pinnacle of distress, my knees get a fine crack on the once-tree floor. I have two neat bruises. Good preparation for the stage I suppose.