So my dad asks "Are you done packing?"
"Movers are coming in the morning. You need all your personal stuff packed. Sheets off. wha wha wha wha wha wha"
Okay, I forgot all about it being march. Shit. I mean, we are moving literally 2 blocks away to a bigger house before the baby arrives. *Sigh* two blocks or cross country I don't wanna! Been in this house since I can remember. It has marks up the wall in CJ's bedroom of me growing until he arrived and I got my cool basement bedroom. Now my new room is supposed to be bigger. I haven't seen it yet, but it is upstairs. Shit, ever since I was 16I had my own entrance where I disturbed no one when I came in, now... at 20, I am back to creeping around at night and putting the tv on low.
I know, I whine, and it is small enough sacrifice to make. All I am saying is it better be a freaking nice room. On the up side the basement is unfinished and my dad says he will build me my own in-law sweet eventually. *sigh* No more sneaking out, not that I have had to since I was 18... but you know, the principal. And I could have snuck somebody in... well, not really, because having sex under my parents roof kind of weirds me out. I don't know how people get off on the thrill of almost getting caught. Nothing ruins a mood more to me than the thought of someone catching me with someone. My luck my mom would decide to do some noturnal laundry or something and .... Some things are just too horrifying.
Anyway, off to pack.