Thanks to Megan's generosity, my BH and I (and Andi, and the in-laws) moved our boxes into the apartment a few days early. Suddenly I feel like we've actually gotten something done. Like we're getting somewhere with all this craziness. Like maybe now we can mop the floors.
Tonight, I have to pack up my closet. Then I have to wash the curtains. Maybe I can organize our bedside tables. It's too early to unplug the stereo, I think. I'll need loud music to clean to. The CDs are a disaster, and I still don't know how I'm going to deal with them. I have hundreds and hundreds, most of which are alphabetized, some of which are in piles. How to pack them? I don't know.
I have also lost Megan's gift in the mess, which is predictable and lame.
Morty doesn't understand what's going on. We gave him a bullwinkle to keep him happy, and holy shit, was he ever happy. He chewed it to mush, and apparently just swallowed it whole. I hope it doesn't make him sick. Do you think my crazy puppy can pass a whole bullwinkle? I'm going to find out very soon, I think. Yikes.
Speaking of passing.... Morty finished his puppy kindergarten class yesterday. He even passed the weenie challenge (and proceeded to whip out his own weenie, but whatever dude, that's nothing new). My grandmother, my sister and my parents came to his final class. I don't even want to know what's going to happen when my BH and I have kids, considering that his mother has already been ordering puppy bling for Morty on the internets. Nobody but the Communist Aunt has told us to have babies so far, but the way our families baby Morty is pretty telling. They want some spawn. Now.
We went to Oz Kafe last night for my sister's birthday. I kept ordering her martinis and gifted her all my art supplies and a cute leather clutch. She was thrilled. She likes used stuff so much, I never really have to go wandering through the shops when it's present time. Besides, it was a great way to cut down my clutter without having to feel guilty about chucking my art stash. She took away two whole Rubbermaids and an easel. Jesus, I'm a pack rat in denial.
One more day at the office and then it's time to move it move it.