STOP. Hammer time.

Yesterday, it finally sunk in that I am moving NEXT WEEK. Next week is not very far away. In fact, next week is NEXT WEEK. I'm not sure what prompted this revelation. Maybe it was that people were giving me boxes and everyone knows boxes = moving. Or it could have been that someone came to pick up my endtables, making the living room look empty and sad.

Or! It could be that the living room, along with looking empty and sad, now has a random bookcase sitting next to the sofa, making it look like a very trashy college living space. But whatever. Once the endtables were gone, I realized I needed somewhere to put the lamp and the remotes and, more importantly, my beer, so I cleared off a bookcase from my bedroom (packing a box in the process) and brought it downstairs. It will only look trashy for about a week or so, so I think it's OK.

I've gotten rid of a couple things on Craigslist now, and yet every time someone comes to pick up something I've sold/given away, I think they're going to kidnap me and sell me in some faraway country (thanks a lot, Taken) or ax murder me or WORSE stand there and talk about their kids or their last vacation for hours. None of this has happened, of course, but that hasn't stopped the fear. Oh, no. I always prepare before they come over. Like, I make sure I'm fully dressed and wearing sneakers in case they try to grab me and put me in their windowless van, so it's easier to run away. I make sure they only come during daylight hours so if I do end up running away from them, hopefully someone will be out walking their dog. And hopefully this someone is in the military, which is a good bet considering we live like five minutes from the base. I also make sure someone (usually Joe) knows that the person is coming over, and I text him once they're gone to let him know I wasn't horribly murdered. It's a good system. I figure if I have a plan, nothing bad will happen. It's sort of like how I plan for the zombie apocalypse. That way, I'm covered if it ever happens but I'm of the belief that if you plan for the worst, maybe it won't happen. If you don't plan, then the Universe knows you're unprepared and it throws zombies at you. True story.

Wow, what was I talking about? Doesn't matter. Tonight, Joe and I are going to pick out paint colors. We're at least painting the living/dining rooms on account of there's a giant gaping white space in the shape of the china hutch that used to be there. Sigh. But picking out paint is fun! Right? Right. I need help, though. The carpet is blue so we need to match the walls to that. Here is a picture. It's actually of the office. Please ignore the fact that I'm wearing Hammer Pants. That is a story for another day. Maybe. Here's a picture of the living room and the current wall color. And some random family members. At Christmas time. Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Anyway, what color should we paint the walls? We'll probably end up painting the master bedroom, too, which has the same color carpet so lots of suggestions would be super awesome times a million.