Straw, Camel, Linen Closet

I thought yesterday would be easier -- we had moved most of our junk the day before. It started out pleasant enough -- LevelHead Jr. seems to be making a smooth adjustment to the new place, and 80% of our stuff had been moved the day before.

Yet, when I did a quick survey of the remaining junk at the old house, I was completely disheartened. There was $^*^ is every room -- not one godforsaken area was completely clear. But I gave myself a quick lecture about how it would all be over in two more days and to basically shut up and get to work.

I was getting tired but staying pretty positive until I opened ........ the linen closet. It was the straw that broke this camel's already sore back. It hadn't been touched. Not one bloomin' thing had been moved yet. There were ratty towels, medicine bottles from our college days, sheets that didn't fit any bed in our current possession ... for some reason, I had completely missed this dang closet when I was going through stuff for the garage sale. And Mr. Hubby had missed it too, apparently.

It was at that moment that I completely and utterly lost it. Poor LevelHead Jr. was the recipient of my pseudo-cussing tirade -- you know, lots of ''freaking this'' and ''dang it all to Hades'' that. Bouncing my frustration off of her wasn't satisfying enough, so I called Mr. Hubby. He didn't answer his cell phone, he NEVER answers his cell phone, which just honked me off even more. So I went back to venting to LevelHead Jr. until Mr. Hubby called.

Poor guy, I let him have it -- and then some. Mostly, I focused on why we didn't just have movers do all the hard stuff and why we had to pretend we were still 20. I don't know why I took out all my frustrations on him; I guess I needed to vent, and he was handy. He took it pretty well, although he ventured beyond the pseudo-cussing world to the real thing. About two minutes into the conversation, I realized how mean I was being to my best friend in the whole world, so then the tears came and the "I'm so sorry'' apologies.

I felt much better after the explosion; but I'm not sure about the Hubster. He's still talking to me, so I'll take that as a good sign.

Today the floor guys should be finishing, the washer and dryer are coming and, of course, more moving and cleaning.

It has to end tomorrow; we're handing over the keys at 3:30, ready or not ...