You'd think we would be professionals at this by now.
At this point in life, we have moved a combined total of 15 times. Okay, that's an estimation, but plenty of times nonetheless. And here we are again- moving. This, however, is the "big move." Kenny is slowly and surely moving his stuff in. This, of course, means being combined with my stuff.
Boy stuff. With my stuff.
Sorry, but this isn't totally okay with me.
Right about now, we have one room devoted to just...stuff. And now we decide where everything goes. Together.
Having it in said room is better than where it all was before- the doorway. Natalie nearly had a mini-meltdown when there was no longer any way to get in or out of the front door.
Uncool.
I had been so good all day, right up until we were leaving and there was still a dresser poised on our front porch, waiting to come in. Once inside, just right there, I believe my exact words were, "I just...can't."
An hour later Kenny was asking me, "Are you still thinking about the dresser?" to which I replied a meak, "yes."
So we've come a long way, having it all in one room.
It's at this point that I really wish I was in "Bedknobs and Broomsticks" and could have things fly to where they should go in the time it would take to sing about it.
All of this to say that things must be moved in relatively soon, as people start to arrive in town and then the wedding happens. That is in less than two weeks, my friends. I'm trying to take the time to process this once-in-a-lifetime time, but it's challenging considering everything there still is to DO that I don't really want to do. I'm pretty much ready to be done.
Just a little bit more. I've come this far (as if I'm needing positive self talk for crossing the Sahara or something).
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