Taking deep breaths. Move was moved back a week, the new apartment won’t be ready until the 14th. Thank God!! Only having a week to pack and move was a ludicrous idea. My list has been whittled away at little by little. We went and got our official marriage certificate. It looks like an automobile pink slip. John asked where we put his registration stickers. Now I can change my IDs, social security, and well, every other little thing you’ve never thought of that has your name on it.

Why do shiny new things make me so damn happy? How do I let consumerism take over my entire being sometimes? I received my beautiful new coffee pot yesterday. Now, this isn’t the one I originally wanted, the one that grinds the beans itself. It’s just a fancy schmancy one that John and I decided we liked better. Boy, does it make a great cup of coffee! And, it’s so pretty. I know, I know it’s just a coffee pot. It makes me giddy!

On to more lofty thoughts. Hmmm… (Still looking at coffee pot)…as I start packing and cleaning I’m fighting a little frustration. There is still wedding debris, that beautiful coffee pot came with a pile of stupid packing peanuts that are still littering my floor (glance at coffee pot for inspiration). How is this positive? I have friends that know and empathize with this frustration. Are they messy like me? No. Yet, when it comes time for me to do a monthly bulldoze through the house someone always shows up to lend a hand. This move is no different. I have received many offers of help. How cool is that? I just wound everyone up in a day all about me, and they are still willing to lend a hand when it’s still all about me. I swear, after the move I am doing something special for each of these friends and relatives. Gee, I see a future blog subject – three special things for those you love and who love you back.

Yesterday one of the errands John and I went on was to his bank to check on the account I have no way to touch. This has now officially been designated as the “house fund” account. Yes, I Samantha Natasha Weiland Pankey may, someday, a few years from now, own a house. Mind blowing even thinking about it. I never thought I’d say the words “we are going to buy a house.” It will be tough, and there is a lot of work to do. But, I want my own home. A place where I can paint the walls whatever color I choose. I can get whatever pet I want. I even have the responsibility to fix what breaks. Here I am, miles away from the person who never thought she’d be good enough to even think about doing this, actually making plans for VA loans and First time buyer’s credits and towns we would like to live in. Thank you John for helping to make this possible.

Oh, that list I started? Honestly I’m going to try and get back to it this weekend. Please leave a little note and let me know these thoughts are reaching someone! (Comment grubbing, a new low – check out this great post about how happy comments can make a blogger:  http://www.thewritingwomb.com/2010_06_01_archive.html   The Naked Writer makes me happy!)

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