The Queen of Denial

Thank you for checking in to see how I am doing. The going-crazy is progressing nicely. I am moving in a day and a half, which seems rather soon to me. I can't, for the life of me, figure out why I am not packing.
Yesterday I decided that every single item of silky-smooth, and delicate, clothing I had needed to be laundered in preparation for matrimony. An arduous task involving hand washing, and hanging to dry. During this riveting undertaking, I realized that one can't justify packing and moving pantyhose with runs in them. Although one can apparently justify storing them since the early 90's, but I digress. So I have to inspect each pair of nylons, before washing and hanging to dry. Does anyone wear nylons anymore? Why do I own them?
There is something of my Mother in me which forces me to wash things before packing them. I did this the other day while Kara was trying to pack all my fragile tea things. I was scrubbing all the porcelain at the sink so it could be sparkly before being enshrouded in newspaper. Because I'm sure the newspaper won't leave ink on it, or anything.
So, every doorway in my home is crowded with hangers draped with drying undergarments. Because that's a sensible use of my time and space.

Tim and I have been running around, checking things off our list, madly. And The Big Day is nearly here. On Friday I shall be "Mrs".

I am wanting to bury my head in the sand, my nose in a good book, or run off to the movies. Anything but move. It's very overwhelming, this change thing.
On Saturday, I started in with tears before I even got out of bed. It's not that I'm sad, far from it! Life is a fairy tale right now, but it's a really drastic switch of everything. I'm moving across town, changing my name, giving up my privacy, doubling my number of children. I'll have a new car, house, identity, school system, and economic situation. I'm thrilled. I'm also spinning. Saturday, I started crying in the morning, and couldn't quite get a grip. Has that ever happened to you? I walked into Tim's house, and tears started to stream down my face. I ordered half a sandwich at lunch, was given a whole, and lost it again. That poor man must have thought I'd lost my mind. Everything's great, I'm just entirely overwhelmed.

And I still have to pack. The boys are all moved in already. It's just my stuff that's got to go.
I'm going to go do something about that. Any. Minute.