It's THAT day.
The day before the day before the move.
Little sleep. Past the point of comfort in lifestyle. Getting a clear picture of how many MORE boxes I will need to finish the job.
Here's how it goes from now until the move is done:
Explitives fall out of the mouth followed by
meditative murmuring. ("everything is fine. It always works out fine, it is ok just like this for now, etc")
crying. Tiny tears sneak out the side. Not full on bawling. That's for babies.
work
work more
smile and say everything is going fine when people dare to ask,
which they generally don't, for fear you will ask them to help.
Human nature.
AND repeat these actions over and over again, for the next 48 hours.
I think I will name this stage so I can put it in my book.
Stage 9: The Day before the Day before.
The final boxes, a car I can afford, with the NRA sticker for good luck.