The apt is in a total state of organized chaos. The master of the house, (aka Pookie) has been a bit, let's see how do I put his, cranky of late. In his 10 years of life he's been through 6 moves, you'd think he'd get it by now. But instead, he's in every box, sleeping near me or walking near me...hoping he doesn't get left behind. I packed his food last night while he was asleep and got the one-eyed-glare-of-concern. I can't wait to put him in the car so he can wail for 25 miles.
I have a couple of girlfriends coming over tomorrow to help "supervise" the movers. Secretly hoping they'll be cute movers so us girls have something more to gossip about...as if we need anything.
I think I'm set:
I have a couple of girlfriends coming over tomorrow to help "supervise" the movers. Secretly hoping they'll be cute movers so us girls have something more to gossip about...as if we need anything.
I think I'm set:
- Maps for helpers to the new apt - Check
- Maps of each room and what should go where - Check
- Coffee - CheckCheckCheck
- Donuts - Check
- All belongs neatly packed for optimal quick moving - Check
- All non-movers-moving articles in one location for us girls to move - Check
- Money - Check
- Tylenol - Check
- Enough energy to get through this move - Um - half a check.
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