It is taking us a ridiculous amount of time to unpack here at the new House of Tuna.
It took me the entire three days between dropping my kids off at my parents and heading back to pick them up just to unpack the kids' bedrooms. Of course unpacking my daughter's room also meant throwing away mounds of stuff I couldn't get rid of when she was around.
The poor packers must have been horrified to have to pack her room. There was a whole box of stuff that they found behind her beds when they moved them. They also packed up a big green garbage bag very neatly in a box.
I guess it's better then them packing up the sex toys I had forgotten about when we moved from Florida.
There's nothing like unrolling a huge lump of paper and finding a big, purple dildo wrapped lovingly inside.
Unpacking the rest of the house has been an exercise in frustration, like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. The house is so different from our last one. There are tons more kitchen cabinets, but no medicine cabinets. We lost a playroom and an office, but gained a bedroom and open living room/dining room combo.
I swear it is going to take me a month just to get the essentials unpacked. I'm still living out of a suitcase and after three days of unpacking the kitchen, I still haven't found the plates and glasses.
Complain, complain, complain. I know. I'm in a horrible mood and I wish I could have just stayed in bed all day. (Considering I just got up, I practically did.)