Because we're packing up and moving the same weekend that there is a huge photography fundraiser at church, for which Micah and I are two of the photographers, and the same week that we have to edit, preview, post, and send a maternity shoot from last weekend, and is the same weekend that I graduate from college and have the commencement ceremony, oh, and did I mention that it's Grandma's last few days here?
Yeah- I'll be bald by Monday.
Today Micah and Caleb are taking Grandma around town a bit to see some of the native crafts, giving me a chance to make the million and one, no, make that a million and TWO, calls that I need to make in order to get this turned on, this switched over, turn off that.. AHHH! Oh, and of course everyone wants a deposit, so that's more $$ gone. Bye, see ya. It was nice knowing you. Ah, we had barely met..
In order for us to have electricity tomorrow, Micah has to go all the way over to west Anchorage to pay the deposit and start up fee. That aggravates me. Every other place we called to get our services started offered to put the deposit on the first month's bill. Why thank you, how kind and thoughtful of you, to understand that I'm MOVING AND DON'T HAVE THE TIME TO RUN ALL OVER THE CITY!
It bugs me more than a smidgen, it case you couldn't tell.
So Micah's going over there to get that set up, meanwhile I called to get our internet switched over, which, we'll be without internet over the weekend cause of course they don't work on the weekend. So we'll be out of contact for a while. Or bumming internet from someone else for the important things, like Grandma's ticket back home.
The gas people understand what the electric people don't... THERE IS ALREADY SERVICE THERE.. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS CHANGE THE NAME.. PUSH A FEW BUTTONS.. HOW HARD IS THAT???
Well, at least I can take my frustration and stress out on the packing. But OF COURSE, the impossible happened... we ran out of boxes. Yup. We have so much cardboard in this house that we could die and you wouldn't find our bodies for a week.
Or even longer if Milo ate us like they say cats do when you die.
Then you might have to call in CSI or somebody to find out what happened.
Oooo.. call NCIS. I've always wanted to meet Gibbs.
Sigh.. (but a good one)
Of course, I'll be dead and won't KNOW that I'm meeting him..
Hmmm.. might have to think a little harder about that plan. Maybe I should just stay away from any boxes that look particularly vindictive, like that one over by the closet.
I've got my eye on you, mister!
Lord help me, I think it moved...
(yes, the last half of this post was stressed-induced. I apologize)