(Warning! In editing this I've discovered I sound cranky & whiny, but who has the time to change midstream? Please bear in mind that moving-fatigue is a bonafide condition that is reported to be quite temporary. Carry on.)
So I'd be happy to share a few pictures of mostly crazy to brighten your day and give you a sense of perspective, but I still have no idea where the cord is.
So I won't.
I'm a little horrified to realize I moved exactly one week ago and I still don't know where my camera cord is. Or my razor (yikes!) (don't judge). Or the tops to my favorite, use-'em-every-day water bottles.
Or my equilibrium.
The boxes are slowly dwindling and I have, in fact, found both my underwear and the floor, but there are still piles and lists and some more piles.
There is also a geriatric dog who's unofficially on hospice, whose current activity is primarily wandering to a different spot on the floor and upchucking, and then napping some more.
And a puppy who is really sweet and not barking so much. But still. PUPPY.
And to make our day complete, I'm sitting around waiting for the cable guy to come back again. We had planned to pretend life was not in complete disarray and flee to the pool, but you know, CABLE GUY sometime between 10 and 12. (It's 11:29. Good thing I rushed that razor-less shower!) I'd be cranky but they're bringing me a DVR and I'm intrigued. I plan to record all manner of irrelevance and watch it at my leisure.
Which I predict to be late October-ish ;)
Later gators!
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