Sunday, August 03, 2014

We are moving.  All is chaos.  I must pack, but I am more-easily-exhausted-than-usual on account of being 19 weeks pregnant.  It's amazing how much energy it takes to metabolize for two/ be woken up twice a night to go pee/ feel faintly nauseous all the time.*  An unspecified number of people are showing up Sunday to move stuff (do I take the offer from the friend's husband with a three-week-old?  I feel like he gets a pass even though he offered twice, but on the other hand, I can't lift heavy things because I can't hold them in to my body because there's a tiny baby in the way and therefore I'm not strong enough) and... well... I hope it all gets there.  I still haven't made childcare arrangements for Tatoe and I start work in three weeks.  BUT!  It must all happen, so it will.

* This is a VAST improvement over really, really nauseous all the time, but still, not so great.


  1. My vote is to accept any and all help. Presumably the husband with the 3wo has a SO that's either (a) Ok with him helping or (b) the husband is willing to risk the fallout from his offer.

    Good luck with the move! I hate moving with a passion. I often have the urge to just throw everything out/burn the place down and start over.

    1. I'm seriously considering arson right now. I think our insurance doesn't cover it if you set the fire yourself...

  2. Wow, I go away for a couple weeks and all this happens. Congratulations on the job and good luck with the move and don't just send the letter, send it in ALL CAPS!


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