It's almost midnight and I told myself I wouldn't go to sleep until I at least packed something. Now is actually prime packing time because little Jack won't need me for several hours, and I work best at night anyways. But why is it so hard to get started? I only have 4 packing days left, and I don't have one box pac--oh wait, I have one packed. But I have yet to put tape on it and seal it up so that doesn't really count. I'm beginning to think this whole moving thing is going to be a little bit of a hassle. Unfortunately, with Harrison choosing a career in the military, this will be a fate I'm afraid I will face many times. Earlier I decided to start with the books - pack those first. But I came across some old journals, and we spent the whole night reading through them and reminiscing about our courtship, engagement, and early married life. Quality time? Yes. Productive time? No. Now Harrison is asleep, and I'm eating goldfish and stalling for as long as possible.
The Tale of the Dress
8 hours ago