Broken (pt. 2) #fiveminutefriday

Write. For five minutes straight. One-word prompt, five minutes, no editing. I'm linking up over at Lisa-Jo Baker (aka The Gypsy Mama) where we read, write and encourage.

I'm still packing here in Orange County. I'm sure I must sound like a broken record by now but the A-lister inside of me has been planning this move for weeks and now that it's finally (sort of) here I feel like I still don't have enough time.

I've gotten all of my tools out in preparation. My hammer- for all those pictures I hung with our without (and then again, with) my husband's help. My spackle- for all those damn holes in the wall, some from us and others a legacy we inherited. My paint and primer- because I was positive I'd go crazy with white walls but now that we have to repaint I'm fairly sure I would have done just fine. My boxes and my tape and my packing paper.

Mr. E and I are playing an exhausting game of Hide and Seek. I drag myself home each night in the summertime heat, weary and wilted, ready to sit down and veg out to some New Girl. Mr. E slouches in some five hours later, just as tired. We'd really love to hang out or watch a movie or run errands for pete's sake! but all we can do is revel in air conditioning and a soft bed and a puppy between us.

And that's okay. I'm tucking each piece of our lives away in boxes, carefully, carefully, so they won't break and he's breaking in our new car and generally sweating about messing up at his first job- but we're doing it for each other and that's what makes it worth it.