I am now facing the very real, VERY SCARY, possibility of moving to Eastern MA. This is way scarier than the remodel project, and is stressing me out big time.
Oh my Rosie! Share with us as you feel ready to share.
Ok, even if he is kinda cute, I’d be somewhat perturbed if somebody wearin’ a tshirt with the word “mucous” on it suddenly appeared on my bed. Weird ass commercial!
swampy, we’re on the same wavelength, slightly offset - I pulled some stew meat out of the freezer to make a big pot tomorrow. Tonight, **FCD **wants to go to a steakhouse, so we’ll be leaving in a few.
**rosie **- what’s so scary about the move?
stressors:
packing
being by myself
packing
downsizing my possessions
packing
finding a place to live
the actual move
unpacking
being by myself
unpacking
I am so nauseated it’s not even funny.
On the plus side, I will be nearer to my brother and nephews, niece-in-laws, and Rosebuds.
I already have a lot of friends in the area.
There are a few Sweet Adelines choruses from which to choose
I wish I could be excited about the upsides - I am nearing complete panic.
You can never kill the MMP it is unpossible. I’m half way through my Craig Ferguson obsession.wow!
What am I not doing right now? The bolded.
What do I need to plan right now? The bolded.
On the good side, it looks like Culinary Boy and I are going to be able to work out our differences.
A kosher lobster!
I like carrots. I don’t like lobster. Would I like a carrot lobster? 
That’s right. I don’t like lobster. Deal.
The beast stew was nummy! So nice to have sump’n like that already made that one can just nuke and eat. Tomorrow night is chikin 'n noodle soup. YUM!
Home from the steakhouse - I love call ahead seating!
Off to knit the evening away. MWAH!
The cold has become progressively worse. Even my ears are plugged up. Hubby was nice enough to make me a hot buttered rum. I think I’m going to have him make me another one so I can crash without having to worry about breathing.
Thanks for all the good wishes, though.
I only have to get through tomorrow, and then I have a four day weekend to recuperate.
Good luck with whatever you decide, Rosie.
Feel better, phouka.
Air kisses to all. I don’t want you to catch my crud.
Where’bouts? It’s not ALL bad. 
In fact, some of it is quite nice.
Know what hurts more than hitting your funny bone? Hitting your wrist bone. Oooowwwwww. I felt it right up into my elbow and it nearly made me cry. That sucked…a lot.
I’m still suffering from a massive lack of motivation. I think I’m gonna have to enroll in summer classes again because I obviously can’t handle downtime.
I helped my mom today though. We filled another 4 bags of stuff to send to Savers and now her bedroom closet door closes. But, I’m back home and can’t be motivated to do a damn thing. I made out in the declutter though. I got 3 pairs of slippers, one of which fits perfectly and will probably be the first one the dogs go after. I also got 2 umbrellas and neither is broken.
I need to take my calculus readiness assessment for school which annoys the piss out of me. I don’t want to take calculus yet. I know I’m not ready. I want to take precalc again. But, I still have to take the damn assessment to prove what I already know. I just can’t be motivated to actually do it though. But, orientation is in 6 days so I better get off my lazy ass and do it.
Found some new firestarters. They work way better than fatwood and duraflame starters. They’re cheaper too. A box has 144 little squares and it was only $9. I just started a fire with only 3 of the tiny squares.
I think Sweetie wants to play Star Trek but I just can’t work up the motivation. I want to go to bed but the Terrible Iggy Dammit decided to stake a claim on my pillows and sheet this morning so they’re still in the dryer. I’ll probably just curl up with my doggies and watch Thunderbirds with Sweetie while I think violent thoughts about my left sciatic nerve.
Thunderbirds are GO!!!
Oooooh Nooooo! Mr. Bill took a nose dive off the balcony. Sweet Pea doesn’t care; she’s being consoled by Pupperoni in her Kong.
Argh.
Mr. Lissar and I had a very nice dinner out for our ninth wedding anniversary, came home, prepared to go to bed, and Gnat threw up everywhere.
So, he and Mr. Lissar are on their way to Sick Kids emerg to deal with stomach flu plus plummeting diabetic blood sugars, and I’m here running lots of laundry and worrying about them.
I hate diabetes. I really really really hate it. If this was our other kid, it would be a case of ‘stay up next to the bucket on a couch covered with towels’, but because it’s Gnat, it’s ‘throw up twice, head out to the hospital for several days’.
May they find a cure soon.
I will hate diabetes with you. Hate, hate, hate. I’m giving it THE EYE. No funny, my mom has the diabee-tus and it’s a bear.
Type 1 or Type 2? Gnat’s Type 1.
Still waiting on laundry so I can go to bed for a couple of hours. Poor Mr. Lissar and Gnat.
I hate it too.
I hate it three!
Hugs to Gnat.
Hope you feel better soon Taters and phouka.
Why might you move to eastern Mass., Rosie?
Gotta get off now.
Yup. As we tell LilO, she gets one free puke: the next one she goes to the doctor.
We’ll be praying for Gnat. And soon is not soon enough.
There’s an Amen Chorus in the MMP…