Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Life is like a box of choc-olates...

The Lord is testing me right now. I'm sure of it.

We're in the FINAL stages of packing, which, as anyone who has ever moved a three-bedroom house across the state would know, is the worst part. It's finding a spot for all the little things you left out just in case you might need them as you packed. Or all the big things you couldn't find a spot for before and set aside, hoping some brilliant, super-creative and space-saving idea would suddenly come to you at some point. There are definitely no brilliant ideas here.Justify Full
If that weren't bad enough, I couldn't sleep last night and have been so exhausted that I've felt tipsy all day long. Plus, my allergies are horrible, and I'm sick-ish. (Are you feeling sorry for me yet? :))

To top it all off, I've spent the evening with Forrest Gump. Micah has been in one of those moods that makes me wish I had a hidden camera so I could show everyone how ridiculous he really can be. For about two hours straight he demanded to be called Forrest, kept calling me Jenny, drawled out that horrible, slow accent and recited every cheesy line from the movie for what felt like forever while we were packing up our pantry. I almost hurled a can (or seven) of chili at him, but I figured it would leave a dent in the wall, and Micah had already packed the spackle.

I'm pretty sure it's time for a bubble bath and a good book, but my bubbles and books are already boxed up. Can't a girl catch a break?!
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