Hopeful Housewife

Weird day. Woke up cloudy headed and frustrated. My house is a disaster…I hate moving.

Boxes everywhere, laundry without a home,  not enough stuff packed, but yet the thing I need most always seems to be in a box. taped up. stacked in the living room….bottom of the stack of course.  I dont care how many bloggers say they can move in an organized fashion. Its the pits, and its not easy. Maybe said bloggers didnt have to use THIRTY gallons of paint on their new house before moving in, making their current living quarters a cross between a rest stop and a dumping ground.

Two more days, and moving begins. By Saturday, Lord willing, it will be over. Whats wonderful about this move? It will hopefully be our last one. This is our first home that we OWN…and our hope is that it is our last home for quite a while. By Saturday night, I’ll be surrounded in boxes stacked to the ceiling…but they will be in MY home. By Saturday, I’ll be exhausted, sore, and probably overwhelmed, but I’ll be able to rest in my new bedroom or spa tub. By Saturday I may not be able to find that one thing I really need, but I’ll have all the time in the world to find it.

Perhaps, by Saturday, my grease-burned fingers will have healed enough to not need the bandages and gel packs in order to go through boxes. *sigh*

Hopefully, by Saturday, the pain from having to sell our little pup will have subsided as we enjoy the company of the neighbors dogs that seem to love us so much.

And without a doubt, on Saturday, we’ll have a moment to take a deep breath and know that we’re on our way in this new adventure.