Friday, August 26, 2011

But I wasn't bored!

For real. I had, like, 18 hours of blissful peace between not having to work and not having anything to do move related and... BAM.

There I am, driving happily on my way to try on a bridesmaid dress, and my car starts overheating. I pull over, call Robert and... my radiator is shot. Green fluid is EVERYWHERE. My car isn't going anywhere.

Rescuing Phineas, my car.

For those of you not familiar with Nashville, let me tell you something. There are LOVELY parts of this city. But to get to any nice part of the city, 90% of your non-highway drive will be through the ghetto. So, on my way to one of the nicest shopping districts in Nashville, I get stuck in the 'hood.

I thought, "I KNEW heels and short skirt were a bad idea. 'What could possibly go wrong?' Silly me". In my defense, it was probably close to 100 degrees out the skirt and heeled sandals were cool and comfortable, and I looked adorable.
My outfit, in my moment of trusting ignorance.

Luckily, even though Robert's truck was in the shop, he had a co-worker taking him out for lunch and they rescued me. I wandered around the local "Family Dollar" to cool off while I waited. Even luckier, I had a library book in my car that I could read while we waited at the office for him to finish his work day and eventually meet the tow truck. Robert reminded me of how the clutch went out in the Boxster right after I drove it (NOT my fault) and the same time we had to move to Nashville, and asked if I was going to make a habit of getting our cars to need repairs when we have to move. I reminded him that maintaining our cars beats buying a new one the week we move, though I'd be happy to go and pick up a nice Mercedes if he didn't want to fix my Honda.

We drove home in the work van. If you know anything about my husband's and mine normal vehicle situation (like, how at any given moment we have several), it's very funny to think we have zero working vehicles. And have to move next week.

I plan on spending my day "stuck at home" working out, baking, and doing some light cleaning. All in all, it could be worse.

Never a dull moment :).

Thursday, August 25, 2011

I've taken to drinking

Just kidding. There's a good story.

Our moving progress is actually going really well. But there's one tiny problem.

I can't sleep.
I love sleeping. Robert can tell you how vicious I get when you try to take my sleep away from me. Don't try, just let me sleep. I don't need 13 hours, just a solid 7.5 - 8 hours and I'm happy. When I don't get enough sleep, I tend to have a nap-deprived-Jane-like-meltdown. I am very grateful that by some MIRACLE, I have managed only to be slightly cranky in my sleep deprived state and not, for example, had to go to the ER with a panic attack. So it could be worse.

At first, I thought it was the break-in. Then, the dog's breathing at night. Then, I thought it was events that broke up our normal schedule. At this point, I've stopped caring. People keep telling me it's just "the stress", but I've felt a lot more stressed before and zonked out like a vampire at sunrise. It could be the stress, and it probably is, but it still seems unfair.

I was talking to my friend (who happens to by a PhD. psychologist) about this problem, more in passing than anything. She suggested I take a melatonin and have a glass of wine. That's right -- that my was Rx. Having friends who are doctors is great.

So, I stopped by the liquor and wine store yesterday (they don't sell wine in the grocery stores here in TN) to get a bottle. And I found this.

Where, oh where, have you been all my life?

We all know Mandy (and Andrew, if he reads this) is laughing her (his) pants off right now.

There's a whole line of "Middle Sister" wines, but the "Drama Queen Pinot Grigio" seemed too good to pass up (and yes, pinto grigio is usually my favorite white, so very fitting). I missed my calling, people, I should have thought of this a long time ago.

So, I drank maybe 3/4 of a glass of this and took 10mg of melatonin last night. I slept better -- not great, but certainly better than I have been. As for the wine? It was pretty good. Not the most amazing pinto grigio I've had, but it had a great, refreshing flavor. I'll drink another glass tonight. I can't wait to try the others :).

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Come Thou Fount

A cheesy picture of a natural fount, just for you.

At this time next week, I will be watching the movers pack up and load up the last our belongings before hitting the road up to Indiana. (yay!)

We spent a good deal of the past few days going through stuff and making the piles of...
making the move.

Between this process and the break-in, I have come to realize one thing. And no, it's not that we have too much. I realize that every single day.

It is that we have so much to be thankful for. The things themselves are almost meaningless. Not that we aren't incredibly blessed monetarily. In fact, some times, when I consider how much money we make, I almost laugh at the absurdity of it when compared to what the majority of the world lives on. But what matters is different. It's the warmth behind that old card you find tucked away, the memories of forgotten souvenirs, the smiling faces in old photos.

When one of my best friends in the whole wide world asked me to be her Matron of Honor last week, tears came to my eyes (and not because I am now associated with the word "matron"). How lucky am I to have a friend who considers me the sister she never had?

When we go out with a friend in town for business that Robert has known since high school, I think we are so lucky to have people in our life that we can always come back to and that we always have fun with.

When I think of moving back, and we both feel like we are going home, I become overjoyed. I get to live down the street from my sister. How fantastic is THAT?!

I look around at the full house of stuff we'll be moving. And I realize the only thing I care about having with me is Robert. And possibly Otis. I think I am the luckiest person alive.

Today, my heart has been tuned to sing Thy praise.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Let These Weeks Be Fast

An inpatient prayer from an inpatient girl.
Lord, please, let these weeks be fast.
Let them go by quickly. The in between is so... uncomfortable. It's like finishing the last few slices of bread in the loaf. They are stale, but not so stale or moldy to warrant wasting, so we wait a few more days to buy a new loaf... And choke down the half stale stuff.
Lord, please, let these weeks be fast.
We have a tentative moving date! August 31, which happens to be my sister's birthday. I sense celebration cake will be in order after I unpack my pans :). We are *hoping* to have the movers pack us the 29 and 30 and do the move/unloading in Indy on the 31st.

My exit from work should be smooth, though I'll be sad to go. We have one more moving company to interview, but we think we know who we are using. We sort of have a moving plan, which is a plan that is a million times better and more flexible than the plan we had moving here.

We are very happy, despite the stress of moving, to be coming home. When we last visited, my sister told me that Abram woke up the day after we left, asking where we, Aunt Chrissy and Uncle Robert, were. She told him that we had to go home. He told her, "I miss them. We go and get them." Melts. my. heart. Little does he know, Aunt Chrissy always has Oreos stashed somewhere and her house will always be open to him and Jane.
Please, Lord, let these weeks be fast.