I HATE MOVING

I guess there's not much point in thinking if I say something I'll jinx it, I'm already jinxed. My brain is completely shut down right about now. Not even sure why, it's the middle of the afternoon and I had plenty of sleep plus a nap this morning.

But the moving saga begins. I had made Mr. Mouse one more mousy pan of brownies last week so he'd be chocolate-ated right before the move, and we went and bought cleaning supplies. When we got back, I went and baking soda-d and vinegar-ed the drains (it makes a really cool reaction, and leaves them smelling fresh) well anyway, in the meantime, you put some water on to boil and that, when poured down the drain, completes the trifecta and gets all of the last dregs of baking soda out. Fast forward to Matt wrinkling up his nose and heading for the kitchen. The brownies, in all their foam plated glory, were catching on fire. For the first time EVER in having a stove, I turned on the wrong burner and torched the last of his brownies and left the kettle untouched. We turned on the fan and the fire alarm didnt go off, but we're lucky.

I hate moving.