Ready or Not, Here We Go...

The floor guys are here, and my house is empty.

 

...oh, except for here:

...and not over here, either:

That's not an episode of "Hoarders" my friends, that's my living room.  I had to scurry over mattresses to find a bra this morning because I forgot to pack before dumping my nightstand in my living room Bermuda Triangle.

Yeah, that's right. I said bra on my blog. Bra.

The good news is that I didn't have to tear up the tiles in the entry, which is why there's a piano in there instead of in the kitchen. When we pulled up the first one we saw it was sitting on some concrete instead of more wood, which means we'll need to do a bit more work to get it ready for new tiles and so there's no point in having the floor guys do anything in there for now. I was grateful.

So now I'm just sitting in my makeshift kitchenette (translation: my dining table stuffed in my galley kitchen 'cause there was no room for it anywhere else), sipping some coffee, appreciating the fact that I found a bra, and admiring my two souvenirs from this weekend:

Ewwwww. The small dark bruise is from something coop-related. The bottom, gross one? That's what I get fo going to the park with my family for lunch and some baseball... and then listening to my husband (who played college ball and had an offer to play professionally) when he told me to pitch a ball to him. Apparently I can't jump fast enough. Straight into my leg, y'all... hurt. so. much.

I'd be wearing longer pants but I don't know where they are, and I am not scurrying over any more mattresses today.