Piv-AT! PIV-AAAAT!

Oh, Monday. I would so very much like to kick you in the headplace. But I won't, because I'm nice.

I keep forgetting to mention this (too busy talking about my lady lumps, obviously) but Joe and I are moving in together in less than two weeks. Because I am an uberplanner, I have already started packing so I'm not up all night the night before the move, throwing random crap into boxes all haphazardly because that makes unpacking an even bigger mess than it normally is.

I'm also trying to sell some of my stuff on Craigslist and, WHOO BOY, but is Craigslist ever a pain in my ass. I ended up putting one thing on the free board just so someone would come pick it up and I wouldn't have to take it to Goodwill myself, but I am having the hardest time ridding myself of my dining room table. So many people have expressed interest and one couple even came to look at it yesterday, but no takers. Keep your fingers crossed that the person coming to look at it this weekend falls in love with it. Platonic love. It would be weird to fall in romantic love with a table. I'm pretty sure that's illegal anyway.

Joe and I are moving into my grandma's old condo and I will tell you why. My grandma moved out of it a couple of years ago when she started having health problems, which I won't go into because A) it would take a looooong time to tell that story and B) it makes me really sad face. She's since moved into a more permanent assisted living facility and so her condo is just sitting there, all lonely-like.

MEANWHILE, Joe and I were searching for a place to live. We decided not to buy right now, for various reasons, and we couldn't find an apartment we liked, which was very frustrating but then! My parents were all, "um, why don't we just rent you the condo?" and I was like, "um, OK, can we rent it for free?" and my dad was all, "no, loser," and I said, "OK, we'll take it!"

We spent this past Saturday boxing up my grandma's stuff and taking it to storage and mylanta, was she ever a packrat. It's good to know where I get it from. I had to eat two chocolate donuts just to keep up my strength. I think one of my cousins might have eaten at least five or six donuts, because every time I looked at him, he was eating another one and I know I looked at him at least five times. I don't understand how he does that. Or how he's so damn skinny. Anyway.

Get this, Internets, just GET THIS. My grandma had had the condo painted a while ago, before she moved out, and according to my aunt, the guy who painted it did a shit-tastic job. I didn't think it was that bad until my uncle moved the china hutch that was in the corner of the dining room and OMG there was a big white patch in the exact shape of the china hutch. Because the painter had painted AROUND the hutch rather than move it. I now hate him. We'd considered painting but now we sort of have to, unless we find something that's the same exact shape as the china hutch which...yeah, that's not gonna happen so now we have to paint. I'm not very good at painting because I'm short so I can't reach all the way to the ceiling and if I'm scared to stand on a ladder on account of all the clumsy, which is apparently genetic because in the span of about 30 seconds both my aunt and cousin tripped over NOTHING and we all laughed and laughed and there was general merrymaking.

I'm so, so excited to move in with Joe but I'm also sad because Heidi and I won't be roommates anymore. It's all very confusing, this having two feelings at once thing. I can't really talk about it right now because it makes me all verklempt.