1. I have internet. And my very own office. Which is crammed filled with boxes. Because I’m not sure where to place the bookcases.
2. Installing new rules. Like put your plates in the sink after a meal (I know. I was to lax here) and don’t throw things from the top of the stairs and don’t kick things from the top of the stairs and don’t yell on the stairs when people are sleeping and don’t put things on that ledge you’re suppose to stay away from. I’m starting to feel like the Gestapo and the jailer. Follow the rules, boys. Follow the damn rules.
3. Curtains. Aidan’s room needed ridiculously dark curtains. So does my room. But I suffer because moves are expensive.
4. I have to stop stomping around. Bare feet + tile + stomping = very tired feet.
5. Dear Movers: You suck. You do not get to pick and choose what you move. But you did. You decided the beds were too complicated. And the fridge was too complicated. But the floor lamps, the kiddie pool, the toy box, and enough stuff for us to make several trips on our own were NOT complicated. You’re lucky I was at swim lessons with the kids or I would have had your heads.
6. Dear Old Rental Company: You took a picture of behind the stove. WTF? I want to see the picture of behind the stove before I moved in.
7. Dear New Rental Company: 7 days is not nearly enough time to inspect a house on my own with the whole moving in process. I’m faxing in my inspection anyways. And I have pictures.
8. Dear Actual Owner of New House: Who the f*#k paints the WHOLE house in flat paint? INCLUDING the bathrooms and kitchen?! WTF? And the paint job sucked. Oh and I refuse to take responsibility for all the stains that will happen because you’re too cheap to actually do the job right the first time.
9. Dear Dad: You’re totally right. If you were retired (again), my move would have gone smoother and quicker. But Mom isn’t going to let you retire yet. She wants new carpets. And new cabinets in the kitchen. And to re-do the master bath. And re-plaster the pool. I second the pool re-plastering.
10. P.S. Thanks for lunch. You knew I wouldn’t stop to eat. And thanks for bringing extra. I fell into my teenage metabolism last week. Of course, I’ve fallen right out of it this week.