Tag: If Only

We say this about every house we buy BUT THIS TIME IT WILL HAPPEN

No, HA HA to YOU, house!
No, HA HA to YOU, house!

It’s happened. Our house is sold. It’s a really big relief, like a pimple you’ve had for four years and haven’t been able to pop and then someone comes along and buys it or something.

Now that we’ve been unburdened of the house we didn’t want, it’s time to burden ourselves with a new house! THIS house, this house is going to be the best house, and not only is it going to be perfect, it’s going to change us on a molecular level. We will become capable, responsible adults, ready to tackle any and every obstacle that comes our way in a timely manner.

The KitchenAid mixer I love but have used maybe three times? I’m gonna make it rain cookies all over this land. That sewing machine I’ve owned for a decade and have never learned how to use? BAM – have a quilt you don’t want or need, family member! The books that will line the books shelves that I’ve yet to open? Get your asses ready, eyeballs! Pinterest is going to look at my house and tie cement blocks to its feet, paddle out to the middle of a lake, and then jump in. And you know what? I’ll bake a delicious casserole for Pinterest’s grieving widow or widower because I’M ALL OVER THAT SHIT.

I can’t help but also notice that all of this is happening around New Year’s. It’s a perfect perfect storm? This is no fail, right? RIGHT?

The Things You Find When Packing 1

I should really be packing right now. We’re at that stage where not everything is packed, but a lot of it is, so you reach this false sense of security while also being stressed out by the mess. I look around and marvel that anyone ever actually moves all their stuff from one place to another.

We’ve been going through junk drawers and boxes of paper. This has unearthed a few gems.

In the junk drawer in the kitchen, I found this IOU that Tom made me for my birthday several years ago. We often joke that I can get fixated on something and feel that one thing will set off a string of events that will then lead to me being a capable, responsible person (moving, coincidentally, is one of these things, as well). In the case of this IOU, that thing was a filter that attaches to a ceiling fan. Tom, as you already know, has an excellent sense of humor and luckily I have one about myself:

Time has passed, and I never ended up with the ceiling fan thingy, and I can’t exactly remember how it would have led to never-ending happiness, but I’m sure my case was airtight and we’ll never know for sure if I was right because I didn’t get one.

I was going to share everything I’ve found so far, but if I don’t start packing again, my generous sister and brother-in-law, who are coming to help us move, are going to slaughter me with my still-unpacked knives.

So, more uncovered gems to come.

 

Famous Last Thoughts

Over this past weekend, I was visiting my mom and sister in North Carolina. It was a relatively quick trip, just Friday-Sunday. I had already completely fucked up the extremely basic math of packing:

Friday + Saturday + Sunday + Monday = 2 whole days there = 2 changes of clothes.

That is incorrect. The correct answer is 3 changes of clothes. I am really, really bad at math.

I usually always leave something there when I return home. Mostly it’s clothing. Sometimes it’s a phone charger, or my keys, or the camera. One time, it was a pair of sandals that smell like sweaty ass-foot, so it was really more an act of cruelty to my mom than an inconvenience to me.

This time, I really didn’t bring that much, and as I loaded my car, I took mental inventory:

“Ok, I have my phone, it’s charger, my e-reader, the camera, my laptop, my keys, toiletries, clothes…well, if I do leave anything, it won’t be too important, because I have all the essentials. If I leave anything, it won’t matter, I’ll get it next time I’m up.”

I left my laptop’s power cord. And, just to be sure I really screwed myself over, I ran the battery down to nothing the night before. I failed to heed the words of Journey, “be good to yourself, when nobody else will.”

My mom said she’d try to send me my cord today. Until then, I’m stuck** with Tom’s MacBook, old-lady-complaining about how I don’t know how anything works and my bunions are killing me, even though I don’t even have any bunions.

So, I’m going to take a break, soak this MacBook on warm salt water, and hopefully that will make everything better again.

**incredibly spoiled