My whole family is sick, all plans are off. Mom wants to go shopping for bras. Awesome.

Congratulations on your new house, sara!

I am still sick as a dog (day 5). Do not want.

I made up for the early-to-bed early-to rise folks. I went to bed just before 5am and woke up at 11:30 with both cats snuggled up to my legs. Actually, they were like this [link] with my leg as a pillow.

I need to finish up some paperwork, update and send off a resume, and make myself presentable for opening tonight.

I drove by the house to drop off the notes to the immediate neighbors. It does have screens on the windows (that woke me up last night.) I didn't see a dryer vent, but there is a window right there. And the basement is so huge and open, I will be running a clothesline or two. Looking at a map, I think I can just take one road (after I get off the street or alley the house is on) in a straight shot to work. Crazy. Lots of people out walking their dogs. The back deck really needs to go.

I kinda still don't believe it.

I bought big black trash bags, dusting stuff including canned air and bubble wrap. I am going to dust and start packing up all my tchotckes. Thanks to my pack rat tendencies, I have a few appliance boxes I can use now. So even if it falls through, the stuff will be dusted.

I have a little notebook where I'm writing down every thought that occurs to me. To measure windows (no covering on then except the french doors,) all the change of address contacts I'd have to do, things I need to buy (shovel, ladder, appliances,) questions, etc. I can't keep it in my head and I don't trust myself to. With everything going on, my brain is not retaining much.

It may end up spreadsheeted.

The next year will probably either excise or exacerbate my phone fear/hate.

I look around this place and have no clue how I am going to do this. I have a crazy amount of stuff, as those of you who have seen the inside know. Last time I moved, it only took two tiny sentra loads. Then I remember, I can ask for help. Duh. Lisa-from-work has informed me she is painting the garage. Because otherwise I'd never get around to it.

It really freaks me out to pack up my tchotckes. Signals change and I'm not in love with transitions.

Loki needs his claws trimmed. He attacked the bedmice this morning and shredded my foot.

Oh my god.

OK, I'm going to rinse off my lunch plate, got get a box and open the package of bubblewrap.

Tomorrow, I need to clean. May tackle a closet, depending on how mentally exhausting the first attempt at packing is.

3:22AM, taking husband to the emergency room for an ear infection.

Aw, dude. I hope he's okay and you're back home now.

I am still sick as a dog (day 5).

I hear you, Glamcookie. Even my EYES hurt. I'm cycling through drug cocktails, passing out, and hot showers when I wake up.

We were home by 6. That included a trip to a 24-hour pharmacy, because the hospital didn't have an open pharmacy. Is that unusual? At 5:30AM, it was pretty grumpy-making.

I put together a new dresser and storage unit for D's room this morning and would like to sleep for the rest of the day. 21-month olds can feed and dress and clean up after themselves, right?

I should eat something. But I think I'd rather take more drugs and pass out again. Decisions suck.

And now I'm doing our taxes. If we end up getting money back, I'm going to seriously consider a netbook. Because I wants it.

Ack ack ack, going to sign more of my life away.