I don't know how many of you knew this already (hopefully everyone by now?), but I'm done at Disney as of tomorrow and am moving out of my apartment on Monday. So today I have mostly spent boxing things up that I won't need between now and Monday. I'm also trying to get all the rest of my stuff gathered into one or two general areas, which means I kind of need to know where it's at, right? So, it would be nice if, say, my food stayed in the same place it's been since January when I first staked my claim in the fridge. That way, come Monday, I'll be able to throw all of it into a few grocery bags without digging around the refrigerator and head straight over to where I'm going to be staying for July.
Oh, but guess what. Nothing is where I had it anymore! Sometime between last night when I cooked dinner and this afternoon when I went to make lunch, Every. Last. Thing. that I own in the refrigerator had been moved. I know exactly who the culprit is. And I very passive-aggressively found all of my foodstuffs and put them back where they belong.
My Stuff we do not touch. Unless we are given permission, My Stuff is to stay exactly where I put it. I appreciate that the kitchen is clean, but things already had Where They Belong, and now they Do Not Belong where they are. This is causing me almost more anxiety than a dirty kitchen.
My Stuff had better stay put between now and Monday.
Oh, yeah. And I still have a weird rash from last weekend.
"I think I know how it is to be grown up; it's when you feel how someone feels that isn't you." -Frances Griffiths