In a Galaxy Far, Far Away...

I knew the last vestiges of sanity were leaving my body last night as I --in a concentrated attempt to stop my mind from whirring obsessively over what was left to do before moving next week, focused all of my mental energy on likening The Mister's and my moving situation to Star Wars. Would we be moving from Alderon to Tatuine or the Millennium Falcon? (And, I don't care if I misspelled anything as I am very tired.) Naturally, The Mister would be Hans Solo and I would be Princess Leia...yes...

I managed to eventually drift into the land of nod where I dreamed about polygamous marriages. I clearly have a very misguided understanding of Star Wars. Admittedly, it was less traumatic than dreaming about incestuous ones. I digress...(was I ever really here?)

The house is coming along nicely. I see more and more of my mother's neurosis in myself every day as I insist on painting the baseboards in the most meticulous fashion possible. I should be done by 2012. The end result, however, is well worth the tedium as the baseboards look shiny, pretty, and new.

Most unfortunately, I do not have until 2012 to move, in fact, The Mister and I are moving my apartment (and the kitties!) next Saturday. As I got ready for church on Sunday, this reality hit my like a sack of bricks. Oh. My. Gaw. With the exception of the addition of about 30 Avon boxes, my apartment did not look as though it would be ready to be moved anytime in the near future.

I started packing my closet last night and finished it early this morning. Tonight, I plan to buck up and pack the kitchen (it's just so hard to see all of my beautiful cookwares sealed unceremoniously into boxes). I'm also going to the house to clean the kitchen so I can rescue my beloved cookware from cardboard purgatory ASAP.

Thus far today, I've warded off the urge to curl up under my desk and sleep like a baby kitten (when I get tired while I'm painting at the house, I just lay back on the floor and close my eyes...an hour later, I feel better) with energy drinks. Mmm...synthetic. Two Red Bull's and a Starbucks Doubleshot of espresso later, I don't feel any more awake...just a dull headache.

Needless to say, I can't wait for this month --and everything that will invariably go with it, to be over.