Some kind of respiratory thing is descending on us. Unfortunately, I suspect it’s either the air quality or it’s an airborne allergen… Yay for us.
We had planned to get a lot done this weekend. Instead it has evaporated, minute by minute, until here we are – Sunday evening before the big move – and we don’t have enough done. My mood is a bit low, too, and I think that it’s making me lethargic.
Or is this a chicken and egg situation? I’m lethargic and it’s making my mood low?
Bah. No idea.
So Todd hauled our mattress and box spring downstairs this afternoon. The bed is broken down and ready to go with many other things in the garage. Aidan was ripping back and forth, up and down the stairs, telling me that he’s “trying not to jump on the bed.” I asked Todd, “Is he jumping on it?” “Yeah, but he tells me that he’s trying not to.”
Gotta love 3 year old logic.
I know I should get up. I know I should pack something. I should pack anything at this point. It’d be a help. I really wish I had this next week off, for packing, cleaning, moving, school, and then the unpacking and settling in. What a luxury that would be. Actually, I really wish my fairy godmother would show up, say “Bibbity, bobbity, boo” and everything would be done – I’d be well rested – dinner would be ready – and my clothes would be pressed for work next week.
Sad how that’s all I’d really want right at this moment.
Or perhaps I’d rather have a healthy body, a clear mind, and all the motivation that seems to have gotten up and moved over to the new place. oy.
Actually, that reminds me… the grass over at the new place is dying. It looks like it has been without water for a while. The weeds are thriving, but the grass itself is yellow and dry. Given that it will be our water bill when we move over there, I have already contacted the property management company. That’s a nasty huge bill just waiting to happen. We need to ensure that we’re not going to be placed in a negative situation right from the get-go.
Why do we have to live in a semi-desert location?? blech.
that’s it for this Sunday edition of whining with moonfire.