Finally done with moving our daughter out yesterday. I'm hurting all over. Surprisingly, for being so out of shape I did really well. I packed the rest of her stuff, helped move the friend, helped move her (she had dining room furniture plus her stuff), made lasagna for dinner for everybody, plus drove around while my husband drove the moving truck. It was really weird that when driving I was anxious but not panicking. I handed the keys back to my husband in relief.

Today we dropped off her cat. Our daughter is tired and frazzled. Her roomie had to work so she was trying to put stuff together by herself. We offered to help but she refused. Her monkeys, her circus--that's what I have to repeat to myself.

We still have some cleaning to do upstairs plus my husband is bringing her old bed to the basement. I'm not looking forward to that as I'm sure I'll be roped in to help.

Lots of love and hugs to everyone!