All I can say about last week is that it is over and somehow I’m still alive. Also, I’m drunk.

Just kidding. 

I’m not even drinking.  Yet.

It’s still early.  And it’s Sunday, you guys.  I’m not a heathen. 

Here’s how my “when to drink” logic works:  If I went to church (which I never do)  I would probably still be there, or just getting out, so it’s clearly not appropriate to start drinking right now.  However, the Denver Broncos play in a few hours, which totally gives me a socially acceptable reason to drink on a Sunday afternoon in Colorado.  It would be even more socially acceptable if it were snowing and/or this were the Superbowl.  But it’s not.  It’s a beautiful, crisp, cool October Sunday and probably everyone else in the entire state is outside enjoying “nature” while I am inside (and planning to remain inside and in a prone position) trying to determine exactly when I should start drinking.


Going outside to enjoy nature would sound a lot more fun if I hadn’t spent 14 straight hours yesterday trudging up and down four flights of stairs carrying boxes/tape/cleaning supplies/other shit. 

Yes.  THE MOVE happened.  It took three big burly moving guys over 7 hours to move our stuff out of the house and onto the truck.


And that, folks, is why you should NEVER move into a four-story rowhouse (with an awesome rooftop deck) unless you NEVER plan to move out.

(It also might be a teensy little indication that my Mom and I need to, ummm, get rid of some stuff….?)

Every muscle in my body hurts.  My hair hurts.  My fingernails hurt.  My back hates my guts.  And my feet simply refuse to cooperate today.  They are swollen and screaming at me and they will not go into any of my shoes except flip-flops.


The move wouldn’t have happened and I would probably be locked in an inpatient facility if my Aunt Marcia hadn’t read my pitiful post from last Sunday and decided to drop everything to come help me.  Which makes me feel awful and horrible and grateful and cared-for all at the same time.  She was so gracious and helped me through the worst emotional parts of packing up all Mom’s art and art supplies, etc. and kept me moving when I wanted to crumble and climb back under the covers.  Every part of her being here with me was a gift.  Everyone needs an Aunt Marcia.

Everyone also needs a friend Marie.  FYI.

Marie showed up in about hour 6 of the movers trudging up and down the stairs when I could see the light at the end of the tunnel but I knew that I still had things to pack into my car before the day was over and I was hitting a WALL.  I didn’t want to touch another box or make another decision or even move my mouth to make words.  That is how burned out I was.  Marie took one look at me, attempted to have an intelligent discussion with me and then proceeded to just pull the shit together and load it into the car.  And then she took me to dinner and helped me unload the damn car and gave me a Jin Shin treatment.  Is she even human, I ask?  Who does that kind of crap for other people?  Marie.  That’s who.

So.  Now I’m laying on my brother and sister-in-law’s couch with my feet up trying to wrap my head around the fact that the move is done and figure out what else needs to be done before I leave town to go meet up with my Mom in Tampa.

Oh.  And I need to figure out what I’m going to write a NOVEL about before midnight tomorrow, when I start writing it…. 🙂

Totally excited for NaNoWriMo and I actually do have a few ideas “fleshed out” for the novel.  (Get your mind out of the gutter, yo.)  I think it is going to be a whole new genre — horror/thriller/chick lit/romance/fantasy/hilarious…..  which means it would never be published in the “real world” but could be very fun to write.

Big thanks for all the amazing support from the commenters and those of you who wrote me directly.  It’s crazy how very real the love/support/hilarity of  “virtual” friends can be and I’m so grateful!

Game starts in 40 minutes.  Must find alcohol.

Go Broncos!



p.s.  OH, totally forgot to mention that Hurricane Rina (which was heading straight for my Mom’s house in Puerto Morelos, MX) kind of petered out before she got to Puerto Morelos (Thank God) and it sounds like the town and Mom’s house suffered from heavy rains and some localized flooding but was otherwise spared the full wrath of a hurricane.  We should be there a week from today!!!!!

p.s.s.  My rules for drinking in Mexico on Sundays are different.  I’ll explain later….


Filed under The Great Anti-Antidepressant Experiment of 2011, Uncategorized

5 responses to “All I can say about last week is that it is over and somehow I’m still alive. Also, I’m drunk.

  1. I’m so glad that Aunt Marcia and Marie were there for you. Can you soak in a nice hot epson salt bath? That helps me when even my eyeballs are sore.

    Hope you found that drink. You totally deserve one!

  2. Ha! I knew you’d do it! Yea for Aunt Marcia, Marie, and your indomitable spirit that keeps rising to the occasion, even when you’re sure it won’t. I hope this adds some umph to your faith-in-self follicles, and the fact that you are loved. Carry on! May The Force (Life, and the Love that surrounds you and IS you) be with you!

  3. I think the rules for drinking in any town that is one you don’t live in should always be different on a Sunday (did that sentence make any sense at all?) Anyway, happy to hear you made it through the week and that you had burly men, Aunt Marcia and friend Marie to help you out!

  4. Sue T

    Isn’t it great to have the move *done*?!
    Very, very glad you had help.
    Wishing you a safe trip to Tampa, and hi to your Mom!

  5. Glad your move is done and wishing you all the best in writing your November novel, wish I’d had the ooomph to do it this year… maybe next year… have fun with it 🙂

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