We got the keys to our new place on Saturday and, until the end of the month, we have two whole homes, which feels nicely decadent. Now comes the easy part. Moving in.
"But what about packing?" you ask. "How's that going?"
I'm pleased to announce that I've totally
finished started thought about it! And despite the fact that I'm losing four days next week to Utah, I'm quite confident I will meet my goal of being out of the Portsmouth apartment by November 20th.
Unsurprisingly, Brad thinks I'm
delusional batty the most wrong I have ever been overly optimistic.
PSHAW, I say. Aren't I the girl who doesn't start papers or wedding speeches until the day before they are needed? Did I not graduate with honors and not humiliate myself in public? So what if writing is my strong suit and staying on task/organizing/cleaning is. . . not so much? I now have the impetus to PROVE BRAD WRONG which should (hopefully) get me off of my butt and send me cheerfully off to the boxes.
Operation PBW is underway.
No napping allowed, damnit.
November Goal
I can do it.
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