I’m sitting here thinking that the last time my house was this much of a mess, we were moving in.

Then I realize that it’s about to get worse. In addition to the work we’re doing, my cousin is coming today to bring some of Grandmom’s furniture, and take away some of my furniture that will now be his.

I *think* that the volume of furniture leaving is greater than the volumn of furniture arriving, although this will not be so until the queen size mattress and box springs migrate over to my parent’s house. So that’s something. But still, I’m in the “holy cow what on earth were we thinking we’re never going to get all this done before the middle of November” phase of the project. This is actually a long phase that I am hoping will disappear somewhat after this weekend.

Hoping.

But still, I really don’t understand how we have to much stuff that takes up so much space. I mean, how have I ended up with eight feather pillows? I only have one head. (And the feather pillows are all mine–Michael has non-feather pillows.) What made me think that I would need back issues of Scientific American back to 1997?

And of course every time we move a piece of furniture, we find a dozen or so (toy) mice. I am now certain that we have a greater volume of toy mice than we do cats. Thing is, after Kat / Mr Furry / Mr Pissy has dashed out an open door for the umpteenth time in a single day, I can’t decide which would be better to keep.