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Move Watch 2009–The Moving Fairy

September 17, 2009

I’m not worried AT ALL about the fact that we are moving in–hold on, counting on my fingers–16 days, because you see, we have a Moving Fairy. Her name is Isabella. Yea, I’m totally high. (Not as in, you know, did I toke up; as in, I’m just losing it; though toking up sounds like a REALLY good idea right about now.) See here’s what’s been happening.

Husband has been out of town all week. Little guy started preschool (MWF)–which has been great, don’t get me wrong. And you would THINK that would have given me ALL kinds of time to purge and pack, right? Well, as my smartass self used to say, that’s what you get for thinking. Because husband had me go to the printer, go to the bank, go to the other printer, go to the mail box place, go to the post office, go back to the printer; plus had to have the termite inspection, make sure the house is clean for house showings–and that’s all when the kids are in school. Silly me, thinking I’d have ALL this time to myself when the little guy finally got into school. Then when I pick them up, and they are both STARVING, my god–they are like the lions on the Serengeti looking for a fresh gazelle to slaughter and slurp up. It’s not like they haven’t eaten lunch and snacks, right? Then we move on to homework, baths, dinner, and bed.

So packing–while it’s a word I’m, you know, familiar with, let’s just say it’s still a theory and not an action–more, um, an adjective than a verb at this point.

I’ve been following the tweets of my cute niece–no doubt packing and moving has been stressful for them. It’s stressful for everyone. It’s also a little exciting too. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. Out with the old, in with the new. We’ll have less room, so we’ll take less stuff. And wow, we’ve lived in this house for 14 years–we’ve got a hell of a lot of stuff.

So, see that’s where the Moving Fairy comes in. Her wand will make everything compact, so all the boxes will fit into our car. No moving van or big hairy guys with hairy butt cracks needed. The boxes will pack and unpack themselves. Pictures will unhang and rehang themselves. Kind of a whole Harry-Potter-meets-Tinkerbell-thing goin on.

As I said, I am completely high.

Sigh. If she doesn’t actually show up (and by she I mean Isabella the Moving Fairy), I guess we’ll break down and buy REAL moving boxes from Home Depot–as opposed to, you know, the make-believe kind from Diagon Alley.

Wish me luck.

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