What was that? A complaint?

Yup. A complaint. I'm not the happiest camper right now. Any guesses as to why? Oh, could it have to do with the fact that I am packing up and moving for the 5th time in 12 months? Perhaps.

Now, class, why would that make Ashley mad?

*raises hand*

"Yes, Ashley?"

"Is it because Ashley's questioning her sanity right now?"

"That is a great answer! Yes! Anyone else?"

*another raised hand* Oooh, ooh, pick me!

"Yes, Ashley?"

"Is it because it's a really big inconvenience??"

"Another great answer! Yes! Any last guesses as to why Ashley hates moving?"

*raises hand, jumps out of chair* PICK MEEEEE!!!

"Yes, Ashley?"

"I KNOW!! It's because she's a huge klutz and ends up tripping and bruising herself and cutting herself and breaking all her nails!"

"Very good! And why would this be a bad thing?"

"Because then she looks like an abuse vicitim?"

"Exactly!"

Yes. Losing my mind. Right now. And throwing myself an enormous pity party while I am at it. But you know what stinks? Every time I think "boo-hoo, poor me", then this thought simultaneously enters my head.

"At least you're not your amazing sister-in-law Staci who had to do this every summer when she and Nate were first married and they had at least one kid almost every time she did it. And they moved cross country. Every time. With kids. In a car. WITH KIDS."

And then another thought will pop into my head. "At least you're not your other amazing sister-in-law Hillary who moved cross country with a kid. Yes. Again, a KID."

And yet another thought pops into my head. "At least you're not your amazing sister, Tara, who had to move cross country with kids. In a van. With kids. And minimal stopping. With KIDS. Yes, there it is again, WITH KIDS!"

And then this last thought pops into my head. "You've got an amazingly wonderful fabulous husband who is stressing big time over final exams and final projects. The last thing he needs is his silly wife complaining about something else and making him stress out over yet ANOTHER thing."

Seriously? Perspective and maturity totally kill a pity party. Can't I just wallow in my self pity for like 5 minutes? Oh wait. I've already done that. And packed up 1/4 of the house because I was fueling myself with the anger. I guess that was productive in a sense. Oh well, I suppose I'll grow up and be a mature adult about this whole moving thing. It's an adventure, right? One that I will look back on with fondness and humor and think, "those were the good ol' days!" Yeah. . . not likely.

P.S. Writing all this significantly improved my mood. Thank you for letting me rant. *Sighs* Much better.