Whole lotta shakin' goin' on...So, the movers come in a week from right now to start packing us up. I am frettfully (or is it fretfully?) concerned that we will be overweight on the move and be in some way financially responsible for the overage. Thusly, this week begins Perge-a-tor-y. Everything I have put out on the curb in the last week has been gone in relatively quick fashion from the junk pickers. That works for me. I could hold a yard sale, but why? Every yard sale I've held in this city has resulted in little more than my own astronomical frustration with mankind. So, I take the worthy items to the thrift shop (where I know I will make a bit of cash) and junk the rest on the curb.
I need to remove the nail polish from my fingernails. It is quite chipped right now and very "White Trash." I can't find the nail polish remover. AGAIN. I am guessing (off the top of my head, no confirmation on it whatsoever, simply speculation, a hunch-if you will) that its disappearance may have something to do with the presence of a teenage female in my home. That's what happened last time I couldn't find any. It hardly seems right to go buy a new bottle of remover because space in the truck is scarce and the movers wont take liquidsl... So, the dilema at hand; break down and buy the smallest, cheapest remover I can find and not look like trash or just roll with it? I am sure you'll find me at WalMart before too long. On a side note, my nails look fabulous. Even the one I broke when I was working on my truck last week filed down nicely. I think it all has to do with the new polish I got a while back when I resigned myself to not getting a pedicure because I was cutting costs where I was able. The polish about which I rave is Nicole by O.P.I. Yes, that O.P.I. And the polish is that good. I have natural nails and if I clear-coat, my manicure will last at least a week. Pedis are lasting until I remove the polish. Yay!
Somehow I managed to wind up with exactly the amount of protiens we will eat before we leave. I have no idea how that worked out, but I love that it did. I don't mind giving my fridge and freezer contents away when we go, but I love that I wont have to give that much away. I've been trying to plan for our departure every time I go for groceries. Yay!
I am so excited to leave. I am so not excited at everything I have to do in order to make leaving possible. Like an idiot, I scheduled my kids' annual sports/school physicals for tomorrow and Wednesday. What on this green earth was I thinking? Like I have time to stop everything to go to the TMC to sit and wait on whomever to get this done and get us outta there. On the flip-side, I wont have to do them in SC when I am frantically trying to register the kids and put my home back together again. This one's a tie.I've never lived in an apartment before. I am a little nervous about it, but excited too. Just think, I'll be able to call someone when something breaks instead of having to fix it my dang self or begging Travis to do to it, which he would, but we have to work around the Army's schedule and all. Someone will be cutting the grass. Someone will be fixing the running potty. Someone else will be responsible for everything. AND, we'll have refrigerated air. I simply think that is marvellous. I haven't had refrigerated air in almost 14 years, since we moved to El Paso from a place where sane people live. Angels sing today because I will have refrigerated air. I will not join them because I love you and the safety of your eardrums.
I had to put on a real bra today. I think I am in mourning. I have to head out and run errands at real places, not just the WalMart or grocery stores. I always wear a bra, lest I frighten small children, however putting on a real one today instead of a sports-bra really chapped my hide. I guess I could call it what my nephew does- chub rub. Wearing a real bra really gives me chub rub. Hmm, not sure if it is a good fit. Anyway, it is safe to stop by today, I'm appropriately constrained.
I have an insatiable ache to bake right now. Baking is very comforting to me. All, I mean everything, in todos, absolutely all of my scrapbooking stuff (yes, all) is packed up and waiting for transport, so I can't detox there. I think the upheaval of next week is starting to get to me. Of course, my rear would love some baking too. Maybe next time, I'll just sit on whateve I bake and save my body some time and energy, since that's where it all goes anyway.
I'm still ticked about my bangs. I mentioned earlier that my newly shorn bangs make me look like Natasha from "Rocky and Bullwinkle." They so do. I didn't go to the fabulous Beth for my last haircut. My mother wanted to treat me to a fresh cut while she was in town and Beth was a bit out of both of our price ranges, so we went to the beauty school. The girl did a great job on everything, other than she didn't cut it short enough in back and the bangs came right off the kindergarted playground after the first scissors lesson. UGH. Beth is so worth the money. AND I AM LEAVING THE ONLY PERSON TO DO MY HAIR IN THE LAST EIGHT YEARS, aside from the chickie-poo at the beauty school, AND I AM A LITTLE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT. slightly. AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Do you think Beth would move with us?
Anyway, I had hoped to arrive in Columbia with a sleek and sexy haircut, 50 pounds lighter, tanned and toned, with buckets full of cash. I hope Travis isn't disappointed. All he's getting is me.
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