In theory, movers are showing up at my house sometime between now and 5 pm. We're not sure what's going on, since the ladies are not fully packed and they have disappeared.
My husband is convinced that they're rescheduling the moving truck. He further posits that they are using some kind of advanced math to figure out the worst possible day and time and reschedule it for then. I suspect he may have entered the realm of the bitter.
Last night, I went down and helped Mollye pack. I figured that I shouldn't behave badly just because I was emotionally exhausted and feeling badly used.
Afterward, my husband and I sat together on the edge of our bed and wondered where we go from here. This is the second time Ann has asked for help and the second time we've moved her in. We cannot go this again. Each time, it's gotten progressively more expensive for us physically, emotionally, and financially. In the interests of full disclosure, the last time only her things came over before she changed her mind. This time she made it 10 days.
Sleep was hard in coming. Perhaps unsurprisingly. Instead this came along. Click to make bigger.