YOU GUYS

   We close on our house on Friday. FRIDAY. FRIIIIIIIDAAAAAAAAAY. That's tomorrow, for those keeping track at home. I keep saying it but it still doesn't feel real. I mean, it did a little earlier when I transferred a gajillion dollars from savings to checking to cover the down payment on Friday but still. No keys, no reality. Or something. I don't know.

I feel on the verge of hysteria, if that makes sense. I'm a planner, a list maker, a collector of worries and what-ifs, so for the next two weeks, I'm afraid I will be totally balls out crazy, even though I don't have any balls to get out! What? I don't know! When I get like this I just feel bad for everyone around me because I am in Planning Mode 24/7. Yes, that's right, even if I'm sleeping (HAHAHA AS IF I CAN SLEEP), I'm making To Do lists or something equally boring in my dreams. Which pisses me off, because who wants to waste dream time PLANNING? I don't. If you do, great, you can have my list-making dream. Throw me back into that dream I was having about Iron Man saving me from aliens, PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

Anyway. I have a sneaking suspicion that I won't be sleeping well until we're in the new house. And even then, I won't sleep well until every last box is unpacked. Until then, I'll just continue waking up at 3 AM, sure I forgot to call someone or do something important and I won't be able to fall back to sleep and I'll lie there and get angrier and angrier at Joe, who never seems to have trouble sleeping, and I'll count the hours until I have to get up and then I will cry all the tears ever teared because I'M JUST. SO. TIRED.

So that'll be fun. At least I know all of you will be awake, too, and AS YOU MAY BE AWARE from, like, life and stuff, misery loves company so HELLO COMPANY I AM MISERY.

Here is a picture of a baby penguin:

LOOK AT ME I HAVE WINGS