Number of report cards complete: approximately 21
Number of boxes in my apartment: 7 filled, 35 empty
In the Attic: WAY too much in the attic right now.
You know what was a very bad idea? Moving to a new house in November, during fall report card and conference time. Not that I could have controlled the unfortunate timing, however. My lease is up in 13 more days, so it stands to reason that this is a good time to be packing up to leave. Conferences start in 2 days, so finishing report cards is another good objective.
Any teacher will tell you how busy and stressful report cards and conferences are. Any idiot will tell you how much exhaustion comes from moving households. I am so over-filled right now.
I keep telling myself: "In a week, this will all be over."
Monday, November 13, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
How Crest Both Ruined and Saved the Day
This morning, it seemed like an effective time-saver to brush our teeth at the same time. I starting brushing, hollering at Binta through a mouthful of pasty foam to get her toothbrush and get started. As I did so, a huge gob of toothpaste dropped from my mouth, onto my shirt.
"Aw, crap!" I heard myself yell, disgustedly.
I felt instant remorse for having used a word that I shouldn't be using in front of Binta. I knew that I'd be hearing the same foul word repeated from her mouth, most likely in front of more linguistically responsible parents.
And she didn't let me down. As if on cue, she echoed me.
That's when I realized that when you say "crap" with a mouth filled with toothpaste foam and a Sonicare, to the other person, it sounds more like "crack."
Crest had just redeemed itself and saved the day.
"Aw, crap!" I heard myself yell, disgustedly.
I felt instant remorse for having used a word that I shouldn't be using in front of Binta. I knew that I'd be hearing the same foul word repeated from her mouth, most likely in front of more linguistically responsible parents.
And she didn't let me down. As if on cue, she echoed me.
That's when I realized that when you say "crap" with a mouth filled with toothpaste foam and a Sonicare, to the other person, it sounds more like "crack."
Crest had just redeemed itself and saved the day.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
The Very Worst Four-Letter Word
Have you guessed what word I'm referring to? I'll bet you've made some very interesting guesses (hopefully not out loud), but I'd be surprised if you thought of the one I'm thinking of.
move
I'm moving. Moving sucks. I've known I was going to move for about 3 months, now. I've been in denial for the past several weeks about the fact that moving not only means that I've got to pack up all my stuff, but I have to beg and plead with friends to give up some of their relaxing weekend time to help lift very, very heavy things.
Anyone out there interested?
The regular reader will be pleased to learn that I am moving out of this crap-hole apartment, into a nice, new house. It's been no secret that I don't like my current residence, and have been longing for a house. In the past 10 years since I graduated from college, I've moved 9 times. This move makes move number 10. Those readers who are quick at math will figure that's roughly a move each year.
Some people go on vacation once a year. I pack all of my crap into cardboard boxes and haul it off to a new residence.
Each time I move, I tell myself, "The next move will be my last." Or at least, "The next move will last more than 12 months." And so it goes. Rent increases, new relationships, and breakups are some of the unforseen contributors to my eventual transient lifestyle.
I started exploring options into buying a house on my own last fall. However, I quickly noticed that there was no way I would qualify for the type of home I wanted. I guess I just imagined something slightly more grand than a cardboard box behind K-Mart. Something that would at least have electricity. And running water.
Discouraged and definitely depressed, I admitted to myself that misery in my apartment would be my reality for at least 3 more years, until Binta was out of daycare, and I'd possibly be getting more child support.
But that was not ok for my mom and stepdad. They sold their former rental property in order to purchase a new home, with the intentions of renting to me. This was definitely a deal that I could not pass up.
So there's a lot of emotion going on inside me right now. Some sadness and shame that the home we're moving into isn't "mine." Plenty of excitement and elation to move from this ghetto into a new, adorable little "cottage." But overall, so much appreciation and love for my parents, for being able to, and finding it important to, help make this happen for me. I'm a pretty lucky girl.
move
I'm moving. Moving sucks. I've known I was going to move for about 3 months, now. I've been in denial for the past several weeks about the fact that moving not only means that I've got to pack up all my stuff, but I have to beg and plead with friends to give up some of their relaxing weekend time to help lift very, very heavy things.
Anyone out there interested?
The regular reader will be pleased to learn that I am moving out of this crap-hole apartment, into a nice, new house. It's been no secret that I don't like my current residence, and have been longing for a house. In the past 10 years since I graduated from college, I've moved 9 times. This move makes move number 10. Those readers who are quick at math will figure that's roughly a move each year.
Some people go on vacation once a year. I pack all of my crap into cardboard boxes and haul it off to a new residence.
Each time I move, I tell myself, "The next move will be my last." Or at least, "The next move will last more than 12 months." And so it goes. Rent increases, new relationships, and breakups are some of the unforseen contributors to my eventual transient lifestyle.
I started exploring options into buying a house on my own last fall. However, I quickly noticed that there was no way I would qualify for the type of home I wanted. I guess I just imagined something slightly more grand than a cardboard box behind K-Mart. Something that would at least have electricity. And running water.
Discouraged and definitely depressed, I admitted to myself that misery in my apartment would be my reality for at least 3 more years, until Binta was out of daycare, and I'd possibly be getting more child support.
But that was not ok for my mom and stepdad. They sold their former rental property in order to purchase a new home, with the intentions of renting to me. This was definitely a deal that I could not pass up.
So there's a lot of emotion going on inside me right now. Some sadness and shame that the home we're moving into isn't "mine." Plenty of excitement and elation to move from this ghetto into a new, adorable little "cottage." But overall, so much appreciation and love for my parents, for being able to, and finding it important to, help make this happen for me. I'm a pretty lucky girl.
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