Ack!

I'm in the middle of losing my mind as we are now T-minus 4 days till the big move. I know I've been neglecting you, but so much has happened, it could take me the next four days to recount it all. So here's an overview. Since last we spoke, I:

...threw out my back and spent the next four days hopped up on robaxicet.

...took possession of the condo.

...got lost in the underground lot no less than four times. In one day.

...drove back and forth across the west end of the city more in one week than I have in the past two years.

...picked out my schedule for school - no 8am classes for me this semester.

...continued the fight (in vain) against the raccoons who are trying to destroy my dad's pride and joy - his lawn.

...painted the condo.

...dealt with the flooring installers, trying to explain that "yes, I know that you can't nail down flooring into concrete, and I do understand that it needs to be glued, and I told all this to the people who took my order, so I don't care how, but you get someone here today who can install this floor!"

...painted the condo some more.

...did something to my wrist so that any movement causes shooting pain, and a wave of nausea.

...packed.

...realized I have far too much crap, and maybe the notion of possessions is overrated.

...dumped coffee grounds all over myself and anything within a four foot radius. Twice. Don't ask.

...packed some more, and started wondering why I didn't let people take the things they coveted when I had my "Goodbye to the Apartment" party.

...came to the conclusion that those things will look awesome when I finally get them in place at the condo.

...had about 17 breakdowns, usually when I made lists of all the things I still had to get done.

...worried that my stuff will all get broken during the move.

...made more trips to the Depots (both Business and Home) than I can count.

...watched two seasons of Arrested Development, my only source of entertainment in this busy and trying time.

And that's pretty much it. Oh sure, there was some sleeping, lots of coffee, and the occasional bottle of red wine, but that has been my life recently. The next week and a half pretty much promises to be more of the same, so there's a good chance I won't be back at the computer till August. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll have lots more "Mabel is a moron" tales, along with the rhapsodizing over my giant kitchen. And now, I really should get back to packing...

Fate knows best?

I've lived in my apartment for almost four years, and in all that time, there have been two constants. I've never seen a cute boy in the building without a ring on his finger or hot better half in tow, and I've never been able to get a parking spot. Never, that is, until today. Just over two weeks from my move date.

Today I borrowed a car and spent the day running errands, mostly related to the upcoming move. On four separate occasions, I came by with the car looking for a spot, and every time I found one. Not the same one every time either, but there always was one. And no, not one at the far end of the complex. Always one right smack dab in front of the doors.

After finding the last one, I grabbed the boxes from the back seat, the bubble wrap and my purse from the front, and I headed for the building. With some difficulty, I managed to get inside only dropping the boxes four times. I went to the elevator, and saw that thankfully the button had already been pushed. Then I became aware that someone was coming up from behind me, so I shifted around a little and saw it was a cute guy with a bike. We both get on the elevator, and after I ask him to hit my floor for me, we get to chatting. He asks about the boxes I'm carrying, and how long I've been living in the building, and I can't believe that I'm finally having the kind of conversation I'd hoped to have when I moved in. Then we get to his floor, and he keeps chatting as he gets out of the elevator and the door starts to close. And do I drop the boxes and hit the button to keep the door open? Or surreptitiously stick my foot in the way of the door? Oh hell no. I just let the door close on the one cute guy without a ring or girlfriend by his side who has talked to me in this building, without getting his name or finding out what apartment he lives in.

And with so little time left here, I'll probably never see him again. Even if I did, I guess there is nothing to prove that I'd actually handle it better. I'd probably just be plugged into my ipod and ignore him. Evidently Fate was right to keep the hot guys from me as I just can't handle them.

But I think I handled the parking spots well, so if that could continue later this week when I will have a car again, that'd be super.

How hot is it?

So hot they had to close down some lanes in the 401 because the road buckled due to the heat.

Sadly, that's not a joke. They really did have to close down a major highway because it couldn't handle the temperature. I know it is hotter in other places in the world, but this is Canada. We just aren't built to deal with this kind of heat. Are the roads in Texas buckling? I think not. And if to further prove my point, I just broke a sweat removing magnets from my fridge. Again, no joke.

Damn you Entertainment Tonight!

I just saw the new Telus commercial, and as soon as I heard the song, what instantly pops into my head? That it is from High School Musical. Which I have never seen. It is amazing how my brain sucks this crap in. How is there room for it all? I'm surprised I can still walk and talk at the same time.

Oh. My. God.

I just agreed with Dr. Phil.

My worldview has been torn assunder.

I can't believe you don't shut up!

Can someone please explain to me why the grass near my apartment needs to be mowed constantly, and the grass bits blown around with leaf blowers after? I can understand if it happens occasionally, or for short periods of time, but the noise has been going on for more than two hours now. And this is after two hours of it yesterday too. I'm losing my mind. Or at least I think I am. It's possible it is still there but I just can't hear it over the lawnmowers.