Day 412

Holy sweet mother of crap am I ever dizzy.

It's not the intense gravity-storms I had when I was going on the drugs, but it is constant. And very tiring. And making me fuzzy-headed like woah. I've been trying to put together an analysis all morning that is just doing a full Romney tax return act with my ability to string two sentances together.

Also, I have been channeling my inner snapping turtle. I grumped at Axel for something stupid on the weekend. I think I've been easier to live with since I realized where it's actually coming from, but he'll have to confirm or deny that one.

Other than that, not notably crazier yet.

attack of the killer boxes

Things to do before the party

Finish going through books. (I think we have four-five milk cartons left.)

Go through clothes. On top of the big cardboard box with "Siobhan has too many black t-shirts" scrawled on the side we also found an additional stash that ended up filling four contractor bags. I looked inside. There are clothes in there from from when I was in University. Which I attended in the 80's. Get your bitchin' retro fashion on right here.

Finish sorting tools and reno materials and see if we really need to keep all of it. We probably don't need four sledgehammers, for example.

Put up shelves. Do another pass through the boxes of gargoyles, statues, dolls and candlesticks. Put (some of) them on shelves. Anything that doesn't end up with a place to live on goes into the "to give away" box.

Seriously, we've been at this for months now. How the fuck is it even possible for anybody to manage to accumulate this much crap?