Monday, July 13, 2009

A fine line between excited and panicked

In less than 12 hours, we get our new house. We weren't supposed to be able to move in early, but The Guy had a great idea of us not being homelesser than we needed to be and ask for an earlier date. Score! Sometimes I am reminded he is not just a pretty face. He's good with the idea things too.

But now, in less than 12 hours, we get our new house. I am laying in bed at Grandma's house counting the minutes until I get to leave here and drive home to pick up the keys to our new house. (Note: That should be said in The Price is Right tone of "a new car!") Incidentally, there are 680 minutes. Exactly. 679.

I am laying here completely awake, knowing I have to be able to drive to the city that rhymes with fun in less than 7 hours. I have to then pick up the keys in 11 hours and 20 minutes. I then have to move a couple of loads from The Guy's sister's garage and do some basic unpacking. At 5pm, I need to nap for at least 3 hours in order to go to work the night shift at 10pm.

Surprisingly enough, knowing this does not make it any easier to sleep. It makes it worse. 677.

Montel is snoring beside me and occasionally grinding his teeth. Grandma is snoring in the next room and occasionally her teeth clink in the glass by her bed. I am laying here. Wishing for the next few hours to go by in a whisk of dreamless sleep. Knowing I will instead surf the internet for men with funny mustaches.



  1. I was going to ask after your last posting if you were having trouble sleeping. I see you are.
    Ah, well, you are going HOME. New house, new man, old dog.

  2. Awesomesauce! Congratulations!

    Monty needs those plastic tooth barriers for sleeping, I think.

  3. So, how did it go?


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