After a long overdue lunch with a good friend I came home and started in on the lugging. I hesitate to call it packing since we are only moving two blocks away and our very well thought out plan consists of heaving crap into rubbermaid containers, driving over and emptying them. Lather, rinse, repeat. The new house is filling up quickly and the old house looks as if it were robbed, during a tornado, that happend while some form of warfare or weapons testing was occurring.

And after an afternoon of lugging it occurred to me that it's not Friday. You'd think I logically would know that since my lunch date was for Thursday. And yet, right now, just this second the whole, "holy crap I have to get up and do this again tomorrow?!?!" thought just popped in for a visit.

So the question now is what shape pasta for dinner and how early can I convince the boys to go to bed. Hopefully the answers will be "whatever I grab first" and "really, really early."

The trouble with having beds at the new house is that they taunt you all day. "Shelle......come here.......nap.....sleep.... watch tv.... you know you want to... those boxes are heavy... leave them...look... comfy..." Tease.