I’m not right.

I have a ton of jokes, miles of them, about this bag labeled “twin”. Then I really studied the picture and got a little freaked out- it really does look like the outline of a child- at least the child’s left leg.

So I decided that if a photo sans joke freaks me out [and I packed the bag so I know that there is no kid in there suffocating for the sake of humor], probably for you non-packers, a photo with a joke might freak you out so severely that it sends you over the edge.

And I try to keep you on edge. Much like myself. See, it gives us something to bond over. Our tender mental states.

Packing update, you say? Well, with a little more than 24 hours to go until moving trucks arrive to haul my life [and my “ideas” and my “big jugs”] away, I’ve pretty much worked tirelessly for 4 days, and I have come to this conclusion.

I wish I was a turtle.

I would carry my house and belongings on my back.

And I would carry some pancakes.

Because all the donuts are gone and I have found that nothing takes the edge off a stressful moving week like a well placed stack of carbs. They are a delicious lullaby to a tired chubby baby.

Carbs compared to lullabies? Sheesh… how do you even BEGIN to untangle THAT issue? Paging Dr. Freud.

Thank you and good night.

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