An Eye Twitch

Some of my favorite literary heroines get eye twitches during stressful events. I always thought this twitch was one of those tools authors use to spice up their writing, for example, rather than say, "He walked in the door and she got mad," it sounds more interesting to say, "He walked in the door and her eye began to twitch."

Lately, every time I hear the word "move", my left eye twitches. It twitches really bad when I type the word "move". I can hardly see right now. We may have to come up with a euphemism for move. (twitch, twitch)

After much debate and massive input from friends and family (which was mostly ignored), Kevin has chosen a house. Just as you may suspect, I am saying that KEVIN chose the house so that if I hate it, I can blame him. He is completely aware of this and I am expecting him to develop his own eye twitch any day now.

Drum roll, please....

Kevin chose the house in Kingston Upon Thames. That would be the 3rd house on our list. The little house. The one that is only 1635 square feet. The one that is closest to his job.

Being close to Kevin's job is a good idea but I don't know where we are going to put all of our stuff. We decided that the last time we lived in a place this small was when we lived in New Jersey (the 2nd time), around 12 years ago. Not only is there one more of us now, we are ALL bigger than we were then and we have SOOOO much more stuff!

But, being close to Kevin's job will mean that he is with us more, and that is very important. After all, if he had to spend 2 or more hours commuting every day, it would almost defeat the point of us moving there. Hmmmm....It is probably best to avoid that line of thinking.

We have not yet sold our current house (twitch, twitch) but we decided that we are going to leave the US the last week of June anyway. Our very small house in England will be ready for us July 1, so we may as well get going.

Speaking of our current house, I really want to know who in this world willingly makes their bed every morning? I am seriously considering moving our bedroom furniture into storage and throwing down some sleeping bags just to get out of making that bed every day. It is a huge bed but I don't really think it would matter. It's just not something I want to do first thing every day. It's like starting every day in the most boring way possible. What kind of day can you look forward to when it starts out like that?

And it really isn't all that easy to keep the house in "show condition" all the time. Any of the time. Ever.

Kevin and I have the same cleaning disorder, the one where the more we clean, the messier everything gets. Kevin spent most of the weekend "cleaning" the garage (ie., examining every item in the garage that he either forgot he owned or never knew he owned, cleaning it with the proper tools, disassembling it then throwing it away or giving it to Chris) while I spent most of the weekend further cleaning the office (ie., making sure that the 4 boxes of files that we are storing are all chronologically and alphabetically ordered and that all file folders have labels that are printed in the same font, Georgia 14, just like this blog).

I wonder why it takes us so long to get stuff done? Do you think the people who viewed the house today will understand why the disgusting toilet brush was soaking in the bathtub? I forgot to hide it because I found more folders to label!

OK, so I may have a twitching eye and hair that is falling out but, darn it, if we ever get audited by the IRS, they are going to be very impressed with my filing system!