Everyday I go home and see boxes and disarray and I wish for a magic wand that would make it all go away. I want to go home and relax or paint-or do anything other than unpack boxes and put its contents away.
So I sit down and tell myself I deserve to read a chapter of my book or that watching a stupid re-run on TV is OK. And then I look around again. At the boxes. And I put the book down and unpack one. That leads to two. And by the third (they're big boxes) I'm really, really sick of it.
But it needs to get done. I miss knowing where everything is. I miss having a place that seems put together and homey. I know that I just moved on Saturday. I know that I am impatient with myself-with everything-and that I should relax and know that it can't all get done right away...but I so want it done. I hope I can finish most of it up by Sunday night.
The other reason why I am exhausted is because we have a little friend who plays on the roof. A squirrel, it seems, lives up there. He scampers and scratches and generally acts like a puppy on crack.
At like, 4am.
The other day I told B1 that I was worried we had rats. I was in our bedroom and I heard the scratching and it sounded like it was in the wall. This morning we both heard our friend the squirrel and I jumped up out of bed and exclaimed, "See!?!".
This lead to B1 getting up, getting dressed and proclaiming that he was going outside to see what was up there. He didn't go out, but instead, leaned out of the window in our nook. This confirmed that it was a crazy squirrel with beady eyes. It also lead to B1 proclaiming that he was going to get a sling shot. Or a bb gun. And then saying that it probably wasn't a good idea because the neighbors would call the police about the crazy man hanging out the window with a gun.
Did I mention that all of this took place at like, 4am? Well, it did...and that, my friends, is why I'm exhausted.