Holy Homo-wner

People. Your Princess is stressed. We're at the 35 hour countdown and I'm freaking.
FREAKING.

Know what I need? A beer. Oh. I had 3.
And a half.
And a half a Klonopin.
And then the other half of the Klonopin.

And The Princess -- normally so cool and collected -- is still a wreck.
I'm writing this on my laptop which is situated atop of box 63 (it goes downstairs).

We're 95% packed. The other 5% of our crap is everywhere and I hate the disorganization and the chaos and the ticking clock.
Willie, El Jimador, and the boys are coming in early Saturday morning after working an all-night gig, and they're refusing payment. And apparently they are so busy that I can't even offer them a proper after-party. I suggested buying everyone a bottle of Patron Tequila, but I don't trust El Jimador to distribute it. (He loves him some tequila.)


I think we're currently expecting nine guys. NINE. So, if I do get ready in time, our stuff will be in the new place in approximately 47 minutes.

I have worked my ass off (figuratively. Unfortunately, in reality, it's still here.) to make sure that my boxes are packed well. Nothing is too heavy. Nothing is not square. We have very few items that need to be wrapped with blankets, and I've sent Willie the spreadsheet complete with a list of odd items that aren't going to stack perfectly on each other.

Still, I worry. Mainly I worry because these guys are my friends and my co-workers and I have been side by side with them humping heavy crap (industry term) and I know what they're in for. And I really, truly do not want to move a box, nor do I want to feel guilty about not moving a box. More than that, I want them to be available for the next move.

So, we haven't eaten tonight -- Erica is on her own geeked out panic -- we have our final walk through tomorrow afternoon. I think I've done the "forceful sigh" about 80,000 times in the last hour.

Though, we did one super fun thing today. Erica and I met at Tiffany & Co. and bought keychains for our new keys. E got the skeleton key/house horseshoe and I got the star with a star that is being engraved with, "22%".
Because, in NYC, only 22% of residents are homeowners. And Erica and I are moving on up.