"Sounds like somebody's got a case of the Mondays."

I had a fantastic weekend. The yard sale went very well. So well that we had some weird guy ask if he could sell some of his stuff at our sale in exchange for giving us 10% of his sales. No one bought his collection of 8 Wizard of Oz plates (!) but he did manage to unload his antique school desk for $80. (Did I mention this guy was a 100% midtown flamer? Yep, khakis, tucked-in polo shirt, deck shoes and everything!)

Saturday night, Baby G and I went to see Friends with Money, a depressing film about 4 very unhappy women stuck in unhappy lives. Afterward, I was unhappy too, but with a sugar buzz from the box of Nerds that I ate. Weird.

Sunday, we slept in, had a big breakfast of bacon & eggs with biscuits and jam, read the paper, attended the church of While You Were Out (I love you, Andrew Dan Jumbo!), and sorted through the yard sale leftovers to take to the Goodwill. (Man, we had a lot of junk! And still do!) I love Sunday mornings -- each week, I live for them. When else do I get to sip coffee, clip coupons, and watch home makeover shows? Nevah!

In other news: I was a dumbass who thought Mothers Day was next Sunday, so I hadn't completed my gift yet, thinking I still had a week to go. Fortunately, my mother is a kind person and wasn't upset when I told her her gift would be late. I got her a shiny bauble yesterday to add to the gift as a "mea culpa".

Now that the yard sale is over, I can begin packing and planning for the move in earnest. An abode must be found, moving services secured, and loose ends tied up. Every day brings another slap of reality. It's getting kinda painful. Don't worry, Gentle Readers, I'll be fine. Nothing could be more painful than not moving.