moving day!

it's coming. . . .

it's Saturday.

and have we packed anything? Uh, not really. Will we? Maybe a few things. But that, my dear friends, is why we hire movers! Blessed blessed movers.

Best. Money. Spent. EVER.

After the last move, I have been told that I am a "bad mover" and been informed that, in fact, my presence inhibits progress. JBB has made it clear that the waves of panic that shear off me during moves is not productive and will most likely make his head explode. As such, I won't be present.

And so I will be moving my clothes and other girly accoutrements over the night before, and then day of, I will move the cat and his accoutrements over, locking him in the third floor, and getting the hell out of dodge so JBB can deal with the movers in peace and not have to talk me off of the ledge every five minutes.

Dude. Fine by me. I still think I got the best part of that deal.

Mom and I will go get door handles for the wardrobe and light switchplates and the like. And she can deal with the waves of panic shearing off me--she's got years of experience with that.

(Don't you love the irony that we're like "what? I'm not about to PAY someone to demo this for me." and "Contractors? BAH! Who needs em!"--but we hire folks to pack us up and move us 2 blocks? I do. )