Perhaps I'll call it "Under Pressure" as that is the song playing on the Sirius at this very moment. It actually works as a title given my current status.
Well, the weekend is over. It actually ended on Sunday, but, since The Boy had the Beemer in the shop, he didn't leave until today and that marks the end of the weekend. We had a good weekend. We went to the Pell's on Friday for a post-comps celebration for people I like and saw Prince Caspian. We went for a few different "family walks" at Battleground. (The Boy likes to call them "family walks." It promotes togetherness or something. Whatever. We walked. We had the dog. I guess that makes it a "family walk.") We went to mass. We packed. Rather, I packed and he studied. It's okay. He probably wouldn't have packed my things the way I like them anyway! You know me. The Beemer was fixed today, and he headed home to Winston. And I resumed packing.
I thought for sure that I was almost done with packing. The Boy picked up 11 boxes for me today while I was at work, and I have filled 9 of them. I distinctly remember thinking, "This last load of boxes should finish up the house." WRONG! I need like another ten or so. And I'm not sure where they are all going to go when packed. I quickly running out of room! And, more importantly, time! But I'm giving up for the night. My back hurts and my fingers are COVERED in newsprint. That is definitely a sign to throw in the towel for the night. I'll get up early and finish all this bullshit... or, at least, continue working on it.
By the way ... "Safety Dance" is one now. If that's not a sign to go to bed, I'm not sure what is!