Boy, oh boy, oh boy, am I longing for the day when my husband and I could fit all our belongings in a few suitcases, and in the back of an old station wagon.

We are smack dab in the middle of our 28th move. Can you believe it? I certainly can't. Are we crazy or what? Most definitely! But here's the kicker: IT SOLD IN THREE DAYS! Who does that?

 To say we PANICKED is putting it rather mildly.

It's probably been the hardest move to date, especially when you take into consideration the physical (as in getting the body moving swiftly) factor. Even now, two months later, I'm still feeling it in the knees, hips, biceps, and, oh yes, most definitely in the lower back regions. But I won't go into detail on that point.

Let's see... somewhere around fifty-something, or was it sixty-something, possibly eighty-something? Oh dear. Brain-cramp! Still recuperating, folks. Just how many times did I climb up and down those darn stairs in our old house--- let alone all the traipsing up and down in our three-story apartment. Oh, and need I mention the slogging from truck to storage unit? *Shudder, Shudder*

Whose idea was it to move, again?

Oh, yeah... mine.

I believe it was somewhere around four-thirty the next morning when my husband and I finally collapsed. Not because we were finished, mind you, but because our bodies just couldn't take any more. After all we're not spry chickens anymore, much as I would like to believe otherwise.

Oh, my stars! Embarrassing thought sloshing to the forefront of my brain. What must we have looked like as we crawled up off the floor four hours later, dragged ourselves to the Title company, and signed the papers to finally rid ourselves of the house we were selling. Did we comb our hair? Now that I think about it... I don't think I even washed my face. *Groan* Did I have mascara face?

Everything is such a blur....

...I think we signed the right papers. I hope we signed the right papers. Maybe I should take a peek at the packet we took home with us and make sure. Is it even ours?

(Huge grin spreading across my face) Yup, there's my name, bold as bold. Boy, do I write REALLY BIG when I'm tired!

How did all those over-sized letters fit on all those pages, let alone stay somewhat close to the designated lines? Suddenly, all the raised eyebrows, snickers, and smirky glances around the table make a whole lot more sense to me. Hmmm.

Makes me stop and ponder for a second. What else happened while I was zoned-out-tired? Pause for reflection.

I think maybe I should end this post and give my real estate agent a call. There could be a reason why she laughs hysterically every time she leaves a message on my cell phone. *Cringing time* Check in with you later, folks.