What? Again?

We have just moved my daughter back into the house for the 3rd time in less than a year. I think she has more shit than Goodwill. The next time she moves out, we're selling the house and moving to Cambodia or New Mexico or someplace and not even leaving a forwarding address. Sheesh!! I've got 2 storage sheds rented. And they're full. TWO!! And how much of MY stuff is in these sheds? That would be... none. Nadda. Zilch. Not to mention all the crap she decided to bring here. My den is so full of her junk right now that I can't even watch TV without feeling like I'm at a yard sale. And where is she at 10 PM tonight? Surely she would be here getting all her stuff put away and organized. Since I and her mother left work early, arranged the use of a box truck, loaded it up, brought part of it here, then went to the storage sheds, then back here to finish the rest. HA!! Yeah, right. Wake up, people. this is a 20 year old we're talking about. She's out with her gal pals and thinking Mommy and Daddy are gonna take care of it for her. Well, surprise, surprise. It'll be right here to meet her in the morning. I'm tired of moving and I'm going to bed. Ya'll need to hear the first part of this story to really appreciate it.

But this time wasn't entirely her fault. More on this later maybe. Just know that I hate moving almost as bad as I hate painting. Have a good weekend if I dont get back before then.