It's 12 p.m. and I still don't have the boxes the mover promised me.
My stomach is churning constantly with the stress.
Leo is down at the new house trying to get at least one room ready for shit to be moved into it tomorrow.
I broke down and sobbed when I was on the phone with him a little while ago, and then my realtor was at my door and the dogs were going ballistic, so I went out onto the porch and cried at her for a little bit (and told her not to recommend the mover to anyone else because he sucks at life), and then came inside and calmed down.
And now I'm trying to figure out WTF I'm supposed to do next. My head is a jumble.
I cannot WAIT until this week is over.