Nobody likes beets, Dwight. You should grow something everybody does like. You should grow candy.

Phase two of the move is now complete. We unpacked the truck into the new apartment (all the way up a million stairs, ok, not really, just like 10 or 12, but it felt like a million, especially to the people carrying the washing machine) on Saturday morning. The weather was perfect, sunny and breezy and blue-skied, because I think Jesus was trying to make up for raining all over my stuff on Friday night. Thanks, Jesus.

We've now moved onto Phase Slowly Unpack All the Boxes and Then Maybe Hang Up Some Pictures In Between Viewings of The Office oh and also Desperate Housewives Episodes. This phase could last a while. We're supposed to have visitors this weekend, because today is The Roommate's birthday and Friday is my birthday so there will be celebration ALL OVER THE LAND or maybe just in Dayton. Although, now that I think about it, I don't think anyone will be sleeping in the apartment because we've made plans to sleep elsewhere both nights. So really we just have to find enough room in the closets to shove all of the stuff we don't want to deal with until later. Awesome.

I think my brain is broken. I'm having a very difficult time concentrating on anything. I don't know if it's because the weather has gotten nicer or because I have killed all the brain cells that are required to make my brain function normally or because I am super excited about this weekend. Seriously, whenever I start to think about it I start to hyperventilate a little and then I have to sit down and put my head between my knees because IF I DON'T I might get so excited that I pee a little. And that is not attractive, in case you were wondering.

Why is it that my brain insists on focusing on things I'd rather not think about? I keep having these moments where I'm pretty sure I'm just staring off into space, thinking about these certain things, and events that have happened or might happen, and what to do/say if these certain things should happen and then I realize that I've just spent the last ten minutes staring glazed-eyed at a lightswitch or something and I literally have to shake my head to get myself out of the daydream. Seriously. Wake up, brain, and stop messing with my head.