Damn, what now?

I don't think I fully realized in the bustle of a big exciting move that starting over was just that, starting over. And, while there have been many moments of excitement over this move, there are also parts that really suck. Like today. We had our IKEA stuff delivered (thanks to Sweden for creating such an organized, efficient, cool store) and put it together. But getting my study room together just reminded me of all the other things we need. I look around this apartment that I love for its sparsness and it seems so, well, sparse. Is this what a thirty-two year old's home is supposed to look like? And then I remember, we sold all our assets. And another wave of hopeless despair sweeps over. Like? Did I forget I'm adult for the past seven years? What do I have to show for my life? A new desk from IKEA? I don't even have a car. What did I do to myself?
Next week, I start my first week of law school and I am already exhausted. M. is leaving next week to work in the States for awhile and I'll be all alone here. Alone with these bare white walls and a blow up bed. Ugh. I'm not happy with myself right now. I wish we had more savings. I wish we invested in stocks earlier. I wish we had assets. [A few months ago, my newly-come-into-her-very-flush-inheritence mother asked me what assets we had and was shocked, shocked, when I told her, 'well, none.'] Except, M's ability to work. And my ability to study, which won't pay off for years.
I know that by the time I'm 40, we'll have assets. Hell, we'll be swimming in them. Right. But I can't help but feel so hopeless about where I am right now: in a small apartment in the middle of a big city with no washer and dryer.