Going A Little Crazy

*Warning* Expect some whip-lash transitions. Expect some random pieces of "Whaat? What the heck is that supposed to mean?" Don't worry. Someone somewhere who knows the jokes is going to be gusting a butt. I mean busting a gut.

I am becoming an expert on any 2-bedroom, 1-bath living prospect between $450 and $800 in ten cities along the Wasatch Front. If you're in the market and don't want to do your homework, just let me know exactly what you want and I'll tell you where to find it. Good luck getting the rental owner to respond to calls or emails, though. You're on your own there.

You know what I love? Chips. This is an affair that took root in my early childhood. My dad used to have to hide the corn chips high up in his closet because I would sneak them all the time while Mom was napping. I grew up and thought I'd developed self-control, but sometimes I'm just as much a five-year-old chip snatcher as I ever was. Then I have to forbid myself from buying them as penance and to ensure that I don't eat a whole bag in one sitting. What can I say? Nothing. Except I love chips.

It would be much easier to move if we lived around a bunch of jerks. Unfortunately, we're surrounded by some of the best people in creation. Seriously. Some of the people here make Mother Teresa look self-interested. (Was that an inappropriate comparison? My apologies to all of her posterity. Wait, Mother Teresa doesn't have posterity...)

I started packing yesterday. We figured the office can easily be boxed up since we're not in school. It's weird to be moving--and this time with a lot more stuff than last time. I think we are going to continue to be shocked at the amount of stuff we have accumulated in the last year and a half. Not to mention the things we've accumulated with having a little baby! Fortunately, most of Eliza's clothes are already boxed and organized by size. That will make packing up her little lovelies much easier.

Are we going to find a place to live? Yes. Definitely. But when? Where? Come now--what kind of adventure would this be if we knew the answers to such questions? A tame, lame adventure. Can't stand for that sort of pishposh. All or nothing! Homeless or bust! Tater-tots to the rescue!

What am I going to make for dinner? Nothing with tater-tots, to be sure. Thank you, Beth, for making bread. I love you. Eliza has cried at least twice as much as normal today. I think there might be a positive correlation between my sanity and her level of crying. And I'm not just suggesting that her crying is making me more insane. My compromised sanity might be making things difficult for her, too.

Calm. Calm is the goal. It will all work out. I can be chill. Even in the unknown. Relax. Breathe in. Breathe out. Chill.

Amazing:  Eliza just stopped crying as I typed that. Perhaps I was the catalyst for the crying after all.

I'm going to hit publish, although I'm not sure that's entirely wise. Until next time, this is the Phantom Rabbit signing out from Funny Farm USA.