This process of moving has been insanely hectic, to say the least. For weeks now there has always been something to do, something to finish, something to buy, etc. Gigi sees me running around and trying to get things done all the time and stops me any chance she gets to ask when I am going to take a break, lay down, get some rest for a day or two.
When I finally got that rest day, a Saturday of lounging in my bed watching movies and television while going in and out of sleep, I was abruptly met with Gigi “marching” (more like slowing sliding) into my bedroom to demand an explanation. She wanted to know what I was doing in bed, why I wasn’t finishing taking care of the rest of the boxes, all in this “how dare you” tone. When I paused my movie, sat up, attempted to get my legs out from underneath her ass, because yes, she just sits down regardless if my body is in the way or not, I tried to explain how I was finally taking a rest day like SHE had told me to. Gigi isn’t one for truth or reality, as we all know by now, so throwing back at her her own statement actually shut her up for a second. It was as though she knew there was no arguing since she would be arguing with herself, a beautiful quiet moment that doesn’t happen often washed over the room for about 2 seconds.
Once she got her bearings it was on to interrogating me about what needed to be done still and if I was going to make sure everything was moved and tidy and organized, etc. I decided to hit her with a mixture of my “please leave me alone” tone of voice and “I’m so stressed out” tone of voice while explaining all the hundreds of things I still needed to do. After that explanation, I was then told how I really needed to give myself time to take a break – I thought I was going to explode! That was my break! She was ruining it!
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