To recap: last week, I accepted a job with Beth Ingram Therapy Services in Brandon, FL. Which means that I am running around like crazy trying to get everything ready and figure out where to even start packing. Assuming that the application for the townhouse I picked out goes through, I have roughly 30 days to tie up my loose ends here and pack up my entire life. And send it to Florida. It's sinking in that I am officially giving up my status as a Michigander and becoming a Floridian.
Packing has become a huge point of stress. We have the following problems:
1. Mom will already be in Florida, awaiting the birth of New Baby B, and therefore unavailable to drive to FL or help pack. Which leaves...
2. Dad and I to drive to Florida ourselves. Neither of use relish the idea of driving our own separate cars (my car and a U-Haul). So we decided to...
3. Hire a moving company. Prices are a bit much, in my opinion, and we have to give them an estimate of house much stuff I have. Which I don't know, since I'm not packed.
You can see how it becomes an issue. Add my anxiety, Mom's anxiety, and Dad's ability to move slowly together with a pinch of time crunch, and you get a recipe for disaster. Bake at 450 for 2 ours and voila! Chocolatey goodness baked full of rage and crazy people.
Where was I? Oh yeah.
I'm moving to Florida. It's a bit insane.