So you’re probably wondering why I’m not hip dip in boxes right now, huh?
It’s because we’ve run out of boxes and it’s too late to go knocking on store doors, begging them to take pity on our poor moving souls.
Actually, I’ve got one or two left, but I’m in my office packing and who could resist the lure of the internet? Not this chick.
And oh yeah…there’s nothing like a move to realize that all those good cleaning intentions you might’ve had once upon a millenia ago obviously never panned out, because judging by the elephant sized dust balls hanging out in the back of the cupboards, you didn’t clean, and you really, truly are a slob.
To thine own self be true, or something similar is what I put in my high school yearbook and I guess it’s time to fess up — Molly Maid would never *ever* hire me back on if they saw the state of this house.
Not that I want to go back, but did I ever tell you about my days as a Molly Maid? Best job I ever had, besides the one I have now of being a mom and a writer (and honestly, no one’s paying me to say that…at least not yet
I’ll be taking lots of pictures of the move tomorrow (our moving crew, “Ray”, is showing up at 7:30 so we’ll be getting an early jump on the day