Here I sit on the couch, wondering where Robyn went. I sure do hope she's ok. I figure she's been gobbled up by a box somewhere. Or, more likely, she got lost in a sea of boxes and hasn't yet found her way back to the living room. We used to have 2 cats... but they are likewise buried in boxland. I'd go looking for them, but there are just too many boxes. It's not worth me also losing my way. I'm just hoping they surface by morning.
It's our last night in the purple house. If you haven't yet understood, there are freaking boxes freaking everywhere. The pod will be here tomorrow, to be loaded Saturday. Don, a co-worker, is loaning me his big Dodge truck for the weekend, so this house will be pretty much empty by Saturday night.
Weird. The first night we slept in this house was our wedding night. And tonight is it. Robyn has assured me she is going to cry. I'm prepared... I have tissues in my pocket. Not that tissues are of any assistance when the wifey is presumed dead in an 8-foot-deep pool of boxes.
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1 comment:
Awww how wounderful though! your moving to the next chapter of your life! Praying for whats next for your family.
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