So if you know me at all, you can probably figure that I am stressed out because this is the big moving week. It's stressing me out that I am not moving during the summer when I can be in total control of everything. It's stressing me out that Sonny has taken the week off to spearhead this on his own. That scares me.
Now, don't get me wrong, Sonny is a wonderful husband. He always says that my coworkers would be so envious if they knew that my husband cooks and cleans, and they might. But (and I trust that he won't read this because like I said before he 'lives' it) I just wish that he would understand my complete need for structure (read complete anal retention) when it comes to situations where things need to be done in a timely fashion.
For example, today I left the note for him to partially pack the kitchen and the front closet. He packs almost all the closet, which is good, and almost all the kitchen, including all the food, which is bad. Three days without any food except what is in the fridge? I am not so sure about that.
This whole move thing is getting to me though. I absolutely had no focus today at work. I didn't have any pullout kids because they were testing, I had a meeting and I had so much work to catch up on. I wonder how in trouble I would get if I made that a regular thing. I need to have that time to get stuff done and right now, with pumping twice a day at work, there is no time left. I was so frazzled today that I didn't even know what to do. I don't even remember what kind of state I left my classroom in. That can't be good.
Well, I better get going. My husband wanted me in bed by like 8 pm and now it's 9:30 and he thinks I need rest because he thinks it will help me feel less stressed out. It might, but then again it might just make me worry about all the things I am not currently getting done.
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Here's a little story about Jennifer for all of you who haven't known her since 'Nam like I have (and I say this all with love):
When she moved from GF to Oakdale, her apartment was the biggest c.f. I have ever seen in my life, and I've seen many c.f.'s because I make my home in the middle of one. Anyway, I tried helping her, because it was late at night, and the next day her folks were coming down to help load up the U-Haul (U-Haul, U-Break-down, whatever).
There was stuff as far as the eye could see all over her livingroom floor, and I figured since we were in a time crunch, I could just start throwing stuff into boxes.
Oh no. It was not that way.
I try packing up the CD's and I get told, "Don't pack those because I need something to listen to." You know what you need? You need to hurry your anal retentive ass up and get this shit into boxes. Listen to the damn radio!
I always wait until the last minute to pack things up, but when I get to that point, I just start stuffing things into bags, boxes, whatever. Not Jenny. No, she'll just forgo sleep so she can personally make sure that her plastic Rubbermaid containers are all packed in the same box with the lids and the box is marked "Rubbermaid containers with lids".
Sonny, just start throwing shit into boxes. Pack it all up, it all needs to go. Make sure to pack all the stuff Jenny needs on a daily basis first, though. ;)
(I love you, Jenny).
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