Diamonds, a hangover, a psychologist, and a wench

That's what my mental breakdown consisted of right there. Though not necessarily in that order. Or any order for that matter.

After a week in Florida trying to pull together this moving thing, I came home exhausted and raw. Nothing was working right. On top of everything, Jerry was being a grump (yes, honey, you were a grump). Our orders hadn't come. The property manager wasn't available the entire time I was down there. The pilot on my flight home had an odd sense of humor, informing us that he was having a blast playing in the turbulence. I know that was supposed to be comforting, but it's the first time I've had to even think about being sick on a plane. Luckily, I kept my cool.

I don't suppose I should go into details about this week. Except to say that sometimes academics can overanalyze their own friends. Someone said something a couple of days ago that had me sobbing on the phone to Jere. Not because it was particularly mean. But because I thought it was true.

Of course, my husband's grumpiness disappeared. And a pair of diamond earrings with a matching necklace showed up from him the next day, just to cheer me up. He really is the sweetest husband. And everytime I get discouraged, he always knows exactly what I need. Or, in this case, something completely fantastic and over the top that makes me feel like maybe I don't drive him nearly as crazy as I think I do.

I owe another thank you to some of my friends. Feisty, thank you for being my very own Catholic concordance and interpreter of completely freaky signs at 1:30 in the morning. "This is a test of the emergency broadcast system. This is only a test."

And a thank you to my other friend, who will go unnamed for PR purposes. Champagne, strawberries, cheese fries, carrot cake with kumquats, a gorgeous gift, and Walmart were the perfect ways to celebrate everything finally coming together all at once. Not to mention breakfast and the stuffed bunny singing out the car window.

I am now in the process of packing this disaster I call my apartment. I've figured out how everything is getting down there. I've figured out how to get everything into the truck. I'm just waiting to find out what the exact move date is. But I'm happy to wait for my fresh paint and new carpet now that everything looks like it's set.

So now goodnight. Ginger is already snoring. She can sense the move, I can tell. Hope she doesn't sense that I'm going to take her in for a teeth cleaning before we go...

Today's lesson: Well, look at that. We're grown-ups now. We have grown-up problems, have to make grown-up decisions, and, luckily, we have friends who are just amazed as we are that we're old enough to have to deal with this crap.