Shake and bake, baby.

I should start off by saying that Sunday was a dream. I say this because I know you’ve all been checking daily, wondering just how many plates got broken and punches got thrown and tears got shed and did I crack under the stress, because I am quite crackable when it comes to stress? Gracie broke ONE bowl, but luckily, we donated that set of dishes away anyway, and not one person left with a black eye or clutching a Kleenex. Pretty amazing, huh? And I didn’t crack at all! (Though I did come close, around the 4 o’clock hour, when I hadn’t eaten since half a protein bar at 10:30, and I further attribute that to the Fiber One bar I had right before the P90X workout, instead of my usual oatmeal. What can I say? I was hungry. And I wasn’t the only one. We dropped what we were doing and ate.) Otherwise, though, everything went more smoothly than I could have imagined. Things from the storage unit were collected in one trip, things were lugged up the stairs with minimal complaint, and before you knew it, there were couches where there before had only been a brown spot on the carpet and four toasters (I kid you not) sitting on the counter. The power of teamwork, Internet.

I daresay I might feel this way because when it came time to unload the cars from the storage unit, I happened to be at Wal-Mart buying a vacuum cleaner… though it should be stated that buying a vacuum cleaner isn’t the easiest thing to do, and it was further complicated by the fact that I hadn’t had any coffee or sleep and had been sweating profusely continuously for about six hours. Also, Janie kept saying things that made me laugh, which is not the best thing to do when you’re carrying vacuum-cleaner-laden boxes around very crowded stores. Still, when we left, we were really, really happy with our progress, and really, really excited to get back, because it was already starting to feel like home.

I got home Sunday night just in time to shove animal crackers and frozen yogurt down my throat and collapse into bed, and I woke up Monday morning at 6 a.m. Sadly, my muscles weren’t feeling me and my bright hours (literally) and so I was dragging in a pretty rough manner. Still, I arrived in the ATL by lunch their time to find NO KIDS. So, what’s a girl to do? I had lunch of course. Then, after reuniting and all of that, I found out that today would be my last babysitting day, as Aunt Jane is taking tomorrow off of work. That means that as of right now, I’m done. Isn’t your head spinning? Where did the time go? WHERE, WHERE, WHERE? It’s all bittersweet; I’m very excited to have a week to rest with absolutely no driving (!) and to get myself back to Tuscaloosa, but the idea of not seeing these people next week is kind of startling. It just doesn’t feel right. But this is life, I suppose: the come and the go, the stay-a-whiles and the goodbyes, the always changing and the forever adapting and the getting ready for somethings new. You would think I might be used to it, but here it is, taking my breath away again.
In other news, today is Uncle Darrell’s 30th Birthday. I made him a cake with two flavors of homemade frosting. If that’s not leaving with a bang, I don’t know what is.
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