You can not even imagine how much I want to take a nap right now.

I’m not sure if it’s mostly the fault of the move, the time change, or my inability to rest if I know that there are things to be done (likely a cruel-hearted combination of all three) but I am exhausted. I am “heels hurting because I’ve been moving for 16 hours solid” tired.

Here are some things that I learned this weekend:

#1. You can’t buy beer from Target at 8:00 a.m. on Sunday morning, no matter how much you promise that you haven’t been binge drinking all night (despite your darkened under-eye circles), instead you are just doing your normal grocery shopping.  I realize that it’s not entirely normal to be up that early on a Sunday morning, doing your grocery shopping, but I was 1.) out of Scout food, 2.) out of Cruz food, and 3.) out of People food.  I didn’t have a choice.  I was just trying to stock up on the usual (Shiner for him, Middle Sister Rebel Red wine for me) and a guy in the isle was like, “You know you can’t buy that, right? Not ’til noon.”  And while I did faintly remember that there were some laws regarding when you can and can not buy liquor, I thought SURELY I can buy GROCERIES whenever I want, right? I mean, come on. There should be an addendum added to the law: You can’t buy beer until Sunday at noon, unless you’re buying $150.00 or more in groceries, in which case, we believe that you really are just a weird, weekend-insomniac type creature who does her GROCERY SHOPPING which INCLUDES ALCOHOL on Sunday morning.

#2.  The moving of animals is the suckiest ever.  Friday night Scout threw up because of her upsetness (that, or because she has been eating the cat food, one or the other).  Cruz had also been acting weird, but not sick weird, until Saturday night.  That’s when I learned this valuable lesson: If you catch the cat peeing on the bathroom rug, and then try to take him to the sun room where his litter box is, he will perform ninja maneuvers and SCRATCH THE SHIT out of your chest type area.  By ‘you,’ I mean ‘me,’ and by ‘cat,’ I mean ‘Cruz,’ and also, OUCH.  Fully aware that cat scratches are disgusting and nasty and full of MICROORGANISMS (increased level of paranoia brought to you by Microbiology), I asked Zack to clean the wounds (PLURAL) with the only disinfectant that we had on hand: Effing Alcohol.  (The cleaning kind, isopropyl alcohol, not the booze-related ethyl alcohol, which would have been a.) bad and b.) impossible, since COULDN’T BUY ANY AT THE STORE ON SUNDAY MORNING. )  Zack braced me, declared his love for me, and then set my body on fire in the 2nd least-fun way you can possibly imagine.  (The first least-fun way being, of course, actually setting one’s body on fire.) 48 hours later, the long, thin scabs spanning from sternum-to-armpit are starting to crack every time I move my body in the wrong way.  Needless to say, he’s not taking the move so great.

And finally, #3. The next time I have friends who are moving, I am going to take them dinner the day after the move.  We, as you know, had lots of friends and family show up for the move itself.  Then we had a second string show up for some major un-boxing on Saturday night.  Sunday, it was Zack and Sarah playing house all day long.  Around 16:00, when my body thought it was 17:00 (WEIRD TIME CHANGE RITUAL), I was starving, and HUGELY dreading starting to make dinner, (despite the fact that I had, as you learned in point #1, already gone to the store) when I remembered that Friend Gabby and her dad had promised to bring us a meal. And they did! And that meal was gumbo!  And that gumbo was fantastic!  And they also brought WINE!  And they did all of this after helping us move on Saturday, too! Furniture! Including our heavy TV! With the lifting! I couldn’t believe how fantastic having dinner was.  So that’s the new plan.  In the future, after moving friends with the furniture and the boxes and the exclaimation points, I will aim for dinners.  Cause man. That was the best.

Good lessons.  Now I’m going to just try to HANG ON til the end of the semester, and then I can probably take that nap that I want so badly. That’s just like, 6 or 8 weeks, right?