A quick one, because my stress level is literally through the roof.
Actually, it’s only through the ceiling—the leak is coming from one of the upstairs bathrooms—but THAT IS THE KIND OF SHIT I CAN’T BE DEALING WITH RIGHT NOW.
Also, here’s a new thing I learned: the only person more persistent and annoying than the movers falling over themselves to prove they’re the company for me are those same dudes when I tell them I decided to go with another company. Seriously, Twitter fuck boys have nothing on a jilted mover. I’ve gotten angry calls, voicemails, email, all-caps texts full of accusations about the company I chose, you name it.
Now when they call I just tell them we changed our plans and won’t be moving after all. It’s easier, though they still keep me on the phone and make me promise they would have been “the one” and that I’ll call them if I ever do move and will tell my friends how awesome they are.
Yes, movers are picked and booked. I still don’t have a place to live but one thing at a time, eh?
NO, of course not. One thousand things at a time, because that is how I work. And that is why I’m going to have a heart attack and a stroke on the same day—because I can’t find time in our very tight schedule for both otherwise.
Husband, bless his poor XY heart, is as helpful as he knows how to be. Which…
ME: (via skype) I’m spinning down here… shopping for packing materials, RESEARCHING packing materials, going over my lists for the billionth time… it’s all very bad. Someone needs to stop me.
ME: Just ordered wardrobe boxes, 20 pounds of packing paper, and an ironing pad (my dress is going to be wrinkled and ordinarily I’d make do with any surface but I’ve been so stressed I don’t trust myself so I spent $10 to save our house from being burnt to the ground)
ME: Have you even looked at the Move list?
ME: At all?
ME: There’s stuff on there for you.
HIM: Checking now.
ME: Okay, there’s two things on there for you, and one of them has to wait until right before we go. The other 99 are all me… cripes.
HIM: Receipts is for me. I can pick up the games any Tuesday, even if you don’t go.
ME: Best if we hold off, if only so we don’t add more to our list.
HIM: Did I hear right about Monday appointments? We’ve got Dr. J and Dr. M both in the morning?
ME: Correct. And I’ve got a SHIT TON of writing to do that day as well, so… I need zero distractions other than those two things. And my own brain. Actually, if you could take my brain out for walkies, that would be great.
HIM: Is the vet Tuesday just for Hamilton, or…?
ME: I’M LOOKING AT JAPANESE PACKING STRATEGIES AND NEED TO BE STOPPED.
ME: LET ME COME TO BED.
HIM: Come to bed.