Hubby and I must have done at least eight hours of hard physical labor moving, unpacking and, piling giant boxes. Slowly but surely we are finding things. Thank goodness today we finally found this wooden pieces to a bookcase. We thought we never would! Now we can at least get some of Hubby's dozens of boxes of books unloaded and those boxes out of the way. I am hoping that by Monday the house will look much closer to "in place" and easier to live in.

We don't get our bedroom suite for another almost eight weeks, but I am thinking about moving down to the futon sofa as soon as the living room is in proper order. I don't even care about not sleeping with Hubby for a while. He's been in the "easy to get out of bed" position the whole time, while I've been trapped against the wall. Plus, I'd like to be downstairs already. And get a little more "alone time". Sometimes I ask him if he's a little sick of me (hoping he is), and he always says no. Then I feel a little guilty since I'm a little sick of him. Don't get me wrong, I adore him, but he's been home most (or all) of the day with me since March. Um, that's almost a full year!