This impending move has me stressed out. We’re supposed to be moving in a mere handful of months, and what am I doing? I am worrying about the quantity and quality of my food and poop. I am puking and passing out, and if you thought I looked like an albino before, you would definitely call me Casper now. I am a medical mess.

We have been boxing up small things here and there and taking them over to my stepdad’s, but nothing major has been done, and the fact still remains that we have an entire basement and two garages full of crap.

We are going to have to have the mother of all garage sales.

When I get back from Green Bay a lot of this stuff is going to get Craiglisted and eBayed, but there are mountains of stuff that just need to be thrown out. We could seriously give the folks at Hoarders a run for their money with our overflowing garages.

I need to give this my full attention, and instead I am measuring out half-cups of applesauce and praying to the porcelain gods every time I dare tempt fate and eat a fucking sandwich.

This is the pits.

I’m trying to get my gastrointestinal doings under control so that I can go to Green Bay in a couple of weeks, because I really, really, REALLY want to go to Green Bay. I haven’t missed a gathering yet and don’t plan to start now.

I guess the trick is just eating really, really small amounts, often. It goes against my grain, but I’m working on it.

In other news, the J-Man’s dance went very well. He met a hot girl from another school (this was a mutl-school event), an EIGHTH-GRADER, no less, and they are now internet friends. So, success.

In still other news, Alice the hamster has grown so fat that she cannot fit into the tubes in her cage. This may or may not be because someone in this house cannot resist watching her eat Cheetos. That person may or may not be me.

Happy Tuesday.

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