how many shirts I can stuff into a box while still being able to close the lid--likewise I seem to have the same trouble with my shoes. It's not even that I have A LOT of shoes, but they're just so big to fit my size eleven toes.
I've discovered a few things earlier in my life. Only a few. Not many. . . But one of those things was that I L.O.V.E.D. moving! I love love loved it! My parents would tell us at our family counsel meetings that we'd be moving and I'd always get excited! I say always like I moved 15 times, but I really only moved once and I was 12 and lazy and tired.
ANYWAY! I love it! I love people, I love new wards and seeing if I know anyone and I love how clean we get our new houses after a deep scrub! So when I got engaged, moving out of my parents home was the thought that got most of my attention. But. Then I stopped giving it attention. And now I have you know. . . a few days to move.
I dislike it. I am a cleaner. I like to be tidy and I have a sensitive nose and can smell anything unclean which is anything that doesn't smell like laundry detergent, comet, hydrogen peroxide or bleach. My room is in a state like never before. It smells like dust. And I want to spank it. A lot. But I have so much packing to do. The trouble with packing is that there is NO WAY on God's green earth that I would just put everything in boxes without knowing what any of it is. Nasty! What if I brought love letters to and from high school boyfriends or worse, what if I don't sufficiently disguise my hideous yearbook photographs!? See!? Dilemma. So. I go through everything. And everything is ALOT. So I've basically got things under control right? Wrong. I forgot about the dark abyss under my bed (it's really not bad, I've always organized things, but I don't have time to reminisce!) and the labyrinth at the top of my closet.
My mom got me ten boxes. I vow to use eight. If I use the last two I want them to be full of food I steal from her pantry. . . like chicken noodle soups since I'm CLEARLY the only one who eats that anyway!
Anyway. I have lots of things to do, but really it isn't all that much. My mom is clearly the go-to lady for this wedding because I can't even keep track of when I work or when I have doctor appointments. She told me that on Tuesday we're having beauty day and I asked her, "Are we having beauty day because I'm ugly!?" and she just laughed. She's such a gal! She told me if I got pajama shorts I could be jaunty. I said "Does JAUNTY mean fat!?" and she laughed her silly laugh. She is the best lady ever. But back to beauty day. I'm so excited because I am in dire need of a mani-pedi and a thread. Hallelujah.
1 day until Jake has his own keys, air conditioning and own mailbox
1 day until I mingle with lots of family and friends at my shower (BRING YOUR RECIPES!) :)
2 days to pack up the rest of the J.U.N.K. under my bed, in the bathroom and closets
3 days until I move everything but a backpack of clothes and a pillow and myself into Jake's, then my favorite women and I eat fatty cheesecake at the Factory
4 days till my very last Sunday in my home ward as a YSA
5 days till my last day of work for 2 weeks
6 days till my Virginian family comes back home!!!
7 days till my mom claims we will be done with wedding planning and chaos
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
9 days till I wake up at 6 am to slather waterproof makeup on my face, load my armpits up with deodorants, hairspray the heck out of the ozone, suck in my tummy for 27 hours, smile until my cheeks fall off, dance with my boyfriend, (I'll call him husband when it's actually official) dance with my old man, dance with those babies my 6 sisters gave me personally. . . dance in general, and only 9 more days and Jake's new house is my new house too.
I think all in all it sounds pretty glorious.