Packing for Good
The movers arrive tomorrow to put our life of chaos tidily in brown boxes. We had an interesting week last week (I went Jersey on our builder) which resulted in my husband heading to Indy a week before me. Unfortunately for him, we found out at 2pm on Friday that he would leave at 8am in Fifa. We had a small, weepy goodbye with some neighbors on Saturday and Pat drove off.
I don’t know if you have ever driven through Kansas, but 6 hours of straight flat road is enough to make you want to rip your eyelashes out. Patrick did give a nice PSA that I should probably stop juicing until after I arrived in Indy. (Thanks, babe.)
1100 miles later, Pat made it, the walk-though was successful, and I, on the Denver side, have been wrapping up. We have one inspection item that turned into a real bear but I think we finally put a bow on it [or it will blow up and I will have a saucy blog for Thursday].
And now, I’m packing. I hate packing and the pressure is on for me not to screw it up for the both of us. I have the dog bag, the work clothes bag, the stuff-we-might-need-in-an-empty-house bag, the snacks-for-the-car bag, and extra bags for things I might think of tonight.
We may have a lot of bags today, but tomorrow will be all about the brown box.