I think I've packed everything that I can possibly pack. I have reached full-blown panic mode. I told my mom today that when the movers come (which will be in about 7 hours), they're just going to find me curled up amongst my boxes in the fetal position, crying "there's stuff everywhere! there's stuff EVERYWHERE!"

Speaking of my momz, she rules in ways that I don't often speak of. Since my solipsistic li'l take on the world here is a version of therapy (blogs is free and therapists is definitely not), she doesn't always get as much praise as she deserves. But rest assured that just as I am her favorite child (ask her!), she is my favorite mom. She's actually my favorite person in the world. I love her the most out of anyone. And not because she still takes care of me, even though I am a grown-ass woman. She is awesome, and that's why I worship her.