Emotional Weather Report

Yesterday we watched Undeclared on DVD until I had a near-nervous breakdown for some reason or other. Something about the college setting really upset me. Let us not speak of it.

Today we tackled our ongoing project of packing up everything we own that isn't needed to feed, clothe, or entertain us. Due to my seething hatred of this apartment and our inability to move until we know where Will is going to be working next, we've decided to turn the loft into cold storage (only not, you know, cold). The process is turning out to be very interesting. It is amazing how little I, the bossy perfectionist, care about how much of anything is done when I am pregnant and overexerting myself.

Downstairs, while far from emptied of unnecessary things, is already looking fabulous. I mean, OK - messy. Messy! But so much better and less cluttered already. Now we need to get boxes. So many boxes. Have I mentioned before that we have at least one thousand books? We have. Oy. Vey.

I don't remember ever being this tired physically. I have a very low capacity for this sort of thing these days, and while Will did most of the heavy lifting and carrying, I pitched in enough that at one point I became convinced that if I moved one more inch I'd go into premature labor and that would be the end of that ("that" being pretty much everything that is good in the world). I felt much better after I sat down for a bit.

When it was over (for the day), I ordered Thai food while Will filled up the footbath. Then he beat Lego Star Wars, which may be the greatest video game of all time. Now we are just trying to stay awake until at least, say, 9:00.

And listening to Tom Waits.

The end.