The packers are done. (I've had my toothbrush in my possession the entire time. I can guarantee that no one but me has touched it.)
The movers come to load tomorrow. If they get the trucks (I just said, truckS. Remember when we were in college and everything we owned would fit in a couple of cars - a U-Haul, at the most, if we had a few pieces of our parents' furniture in our possession?) loaded by 1:00 tomorrow, they'll head on up and unload us. If it takes longer, they'll take off first thing Wednesday.
Anyway, Shawn was giving me the run-down of the services that will be turned on and when*. And, he told me... Ok, people, stop reading. You should sit for this. And, I need you to be strong... internet will be turned on on the... we can get through this together... 29th. *gasp*
I don't care what my parenting-expert friend Jamie says, I don't see anything wrong with leaving the kids alone while I go to Starbucks and use their wi-fi. She's just being overprotective. She has no idea how mature my seven-year-old is.
*He keeps giving me phone numbers in case I need to change the times of the appointments. Ummm, babe? I think I know three people up there. My calendar is pretty open.