After much anticipation, we are moving into our new place tomorrow. Luckily I'm a weakling, so I will just be sitting back drinking sweet tea and thumbing through Cosmo as my hunky hunky fiancé and his friend move everything around me. I'm just kidding. I promise I will be handling all the smaller items, the cleaning, and putting things away in the new house.
I will also be dancing around the guys like a gerbil on a sugar high screeching things like, "Don't Hit the Walls!" "You're Going to Trip!" "That’s not where it goes!" "Don't drop it." "I think it needs to be move two centimeters to the right." "No, no let's try it the other way again!" And by the end of the day both of them will start to think that 25 years to life spent in prison might not be so bad if it would get them just one moment of peace and quiet.
But tomorrow evening when I take a bath in my new claw foot tub, and finally get to enjoy being in the new place, I might just be the happiest, luckiest girl in all of California.