I realize what I'm doing now. I'm in a holding pattern, not willing to commit to anything until I know about the truck. Although getting caught in a novel (Stephen King's Bag of Bones, and one of my favorites) isn't really an excuse, I haven't gotten anything done tonight--because I'm waiting. I feel like I'm waiting for someone to die.
The only thing constructive I did tonight was start my list of things I want to take with me. I'm up to number 47. Most of them are moot points (stuff that's already mine) but I do have a list of six (so far) items I would like to have but won't make a huge fuss over if Chris decides he wants them. (Because they're his, or ours, really.) So anyway. At least I started my list.
If I didn't have neighbors, I'd have to say this place is haunted. Maybe it was the book... I don't know.
The only thing constructive I did tonight was start my list of things I want to take with me. I'm up to number 47. Most of them are moot points (stuff that's already mine) but I do have a list of six (so far) items I would like to have but won't make a huge fuss over if Chris decides he wants them. (Because they're his, or ours, really.) So anyway. At least I started my list.
If I didn't have neighbors, I'd have to say this place is haunted. Maybe it was the book... I don't know.
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