YBW’s mom is leaving her apartment in the fancy retirement building for a much smaller one in the next door assisted living building. We’ve spent the last two days helping her sort what to take, what to leave behind, and dividing things between our family and YBW’s brother’s family. I adore YBW’s brother, but he is inept at packing, loading and moving. So much so, that I could do nothing but stand, mouth agape when I opened the back of the truck to find such disarray, and the china cabinet tipped over, glass broken into a cardillion pieces.
That’s when I started running the show. I’m in NO way “tooting my own horn” here. I’ve packed and moved enough times that I’ve got a particular knack for it. The fierce compulsion for order doesn’t hurt when it’s time to organize. I’ve felt the need to tread very softly through this process as it’s complicated enough without “the new girl” trying to run the show. YBW did call me Wonder Woman and praise my mad skills. (I totally heart him!)
Now it’s all over, I’m feeling a bit puny. I’m tired, have a wicked bruise on my right thigh and a little achey all over. We grabbed dinner on the way home where I murdered a gigantic cheeseburger and drank a really tall beer. We talked about wanting a nap, but realized it was simply too late to try that today. My solution is a tubby full of hot water and my iPad to binge a bit of House of Cards. I’m just dying to see what the Underwoods are up to.
Bed will soon follow and I’m going to sleep as long as humanly possible tomorrow. (Which for me, most likely means till 7:30.) Thats OK, it’s still later than my normal 5:00.
More “wintery mix” is in out forecast tomorrow and I’m going to lie low, possibly organize my new bookshelf, and lie low some more. This week was shite and I deserve it.