As most of you may already know, my man and I have been dating for three and a half years. We had a “brief sabbatical” for two months earlier this year but through good communication a key in any relationship we were able to determine our differences were a cumulation of my stubbornness and his temper tantrums. Those days have been exorcised from our lives…..at least for the rest of this year.
For those three and a half years we have lived in the same city for the grand total of thirty five days. Yup, for three and a half years we have lived eight hundred and fifty miles apart. Now for some of you this would be a good distance to keep between you and your loved one. For us, not so much. It puts wear and tear on the car, and wear and tear on our old and decrepit bodies: too much travel.
Yesterday, The Emperor, “King Dork”, turned in his resignation as he found a new job. A new job here in The Armpit of Florida. A job in the same town I live.
Simple mathematics results in the following equation: subtract one emperor from Cow-lubus, add one integration broker to The Armpit, multiply that by a single mom and her teenaged spawn with the sporadic introduction of the multivariable of three older offspring and you get the equivalency of one house full of people at my address.
Enter panic.
I have lived in the same house for almost nineteen years. Fifteen of these years with just the kids. Do you people UNDERSTAND how much SHIT I have accumulated over the past nineteen years?!?!? My house was built in the early fifties. There is no closet or storage space. I have shit stuff, crammed, shoved, and poked into every available crevice and hole. There is absolutely no room for his stuff. HOLY SHIT….I have two weeks to clean out a drawer or two for him to throw his underwear and socks when he MOVES IN WITH US.
IN TWO WEEKS!!!!!
UGH!!!!!!
Needless to say I have been a bit busy purging all of the useless and meaningless crap that I have pilfered, saved, accumulated, or inherited over the last few years.
Few……huh, whatever!
I thought I’d share in my humiliating experience of the twelve-step program called “Packrats Anonymous”.
Step thirteen: RELAX!
For those three and a half years we have lived in the same city for the grand total of thirty five days. Yup, for three and a half years we have lived eight hundred and fifty miles apart. Now for some of you this would be a good distance to keep between you and your loved one. For us, not so much. It puts wear and tear on the car, and wear and tear on our old and decrepit bodies: too much travel.
Yesterday, The Emperor, “King Dork”, turned in his resignation as he found a new job. A new job here in The Armpit of Florida. A job in the same town I live.
Simple mathematics results in the following equation: subtract one emperor from Cow-lubus, add one integration broker to The Armpit, multiply that by a single mom and her teenaged spawn with the sporadic introduction of the multivariable of three older offspring and you get the equivalency of one house full of people at my address.
Enter panic.
I have lived in the same house for almost nineteen years. Fifteen of these years with just the kids. Do you people UNDERSTAND how much SHIT I have accumulated over the past nineteen years?!?!? My house was built in the early fifties. There is no closet or storage space. I have shit stuff, crammed, shoved, and poked into every available crevice and hole. There is absolutely no room for his stuff. HOLY SHIT….I have two weeks to clean out a drawer or two for him to throw his underwear and socks when he MOVES IN WITH US.
IN TWO WEEKS!!!!!
UGH!!!!!!
Needless to say I have been a bit busy purging all of the useless and meaningless crap that I have pilfered, saved, accumulated, or inherited over the last few years.
Few……huh, whatever!
I thought I’d share in my humiliating experience of the twelve-step program called “Packrats Anonymous”.
Step thirteen: RELAX!
9 comments:
FIRST!!!!!!
Okay, now that is out of the way...
If I get this straight King Dork is your MAN, right? And he's gonna move in with you, your kids, and your pile of crap? Other than having to purge the crap, is this a good thing? Like, do you WANT him to move in with you? What about the kiddos? What do they think about this new arrangement?
I ask because I've been MIA lately and you've probably covered this in previous posts but I'm too damn lazy to scroll down and read it. Now, if all is well with the move in...then SHIT!!!!!!!!!! You've got some work to do, gal! Better call out the professionals!
I don't envy you. I've only collected 2 years of crap in my house and I can't even imagine clearing stuff out for another person in my house...May the De-Crap Gods Be With You!!!
Two weeks is a ridiculously short amount of time to prepare for something like this! I'd be panicking too!
I am totally panicking with you...so to help myself (which OF COURSE helps you) I am going to go to Jacksonville this weekend to party with my brother. This helps you because 1) one less person is panicking in the state of Florida at the same time and 2) Well, really there isn't a #2, but I toast to you in your moving in endeavor and wish you lots and lots of bom chicka waa waaa that first week! :)~
Hi Queenie!
RC – KD is my man, yes. And yes we want him to move in, even the kids. I’m thinking this is a REALLY good thing; lots of things to bitch errr blog about in the near future.
EG – I’m waiting at the front door to hand you a drink before we start. Where are you?!?!?!
Meg – I’m on day four of panic mode….I have yet to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Jess – After the week I’ve had, I’m looking forward to the bom chicka waa waaa.
Bobolicious – HI BOB!!!
Don't panic!
So the first few weeks he lives out of his car.
He'll get over it.
Joe....I offered to buy him a cardboard dresser. He was cool with that.
I love my man.
So cool that you get to live with him :)
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