I'm beginning to panic about all I have to get done before we leave Saturday. Why do I always wait until the last minute to do things?
I am also beginning to feel anxious about the plane ride. I hate to fly. Hate it with every fiber of my being. I almost always start crying after the take off. You know that part right after the plane leaves the ground and it starts adjusting its speed and altitude? I hate that part. You can feel it falling a little beneath you... I seriously want to start hyperventilating right now just thinking about it.
In our old house we had a white refrigerator that was covered in Mickey Mouse magnets, snap shots of our family and the kids' artwork. When we moved, I put everything in a ziplog bag to keep it all together, knowing we couldn't use it on the new refrigerator because it is stainless steel. I was thinking I would get one of those magnetic boards to hang on the wall or something, but that way we would still have all the things that used to make me smile everyday in the new kitchen. As you can imagine, the bag got packed with other stuff and I never really thought about it much after the move. Until Saturday when I found it in a box in the office. I can't believe how much our kids have changed since we moved in to this house three years ago. Of course I cried looking at the pictures and all the little projects they made in preschool and early elementary. I miss my babies being little. Where does the time go?
I need to get organized. When we get back from the trip, I am going to concentrate on decluttering this house and simplifying our lives. I have already started here and there and it feels so good. I am tired of feeling weighed down and overwhelmed. Big changes are coming this way and I am excited!
And on a TMI note (any men reading, please stop now), I am so excited my "friend" came early this month! According to my schedule, it should have come two days before we leave. Awesome. And seriously, why do we call it our friend? It is so not our friend. Definitely more of an enemy. I mean what kind of a friend comes to visit, stays a whole week, forces you to eat chocolate, makes you crabby and ruins all your underwear? That is no friend of mine, thankyouverymuch.
Wow. I'm feeling a little unsure about that whole paragraph above. Ah, what the hell. This is me. Here I am world. Peace out.