Never have I ever...

-mowed the lawn. (Or started a lawnmower. I don't even know how to turn it on. I THINK it's a pull cord?)
-planted a shrub.
-painted a wall.
-cleaned an oven.
-changed a light fixture. I have changed a light bulb, I'm not a complete imbecile.
-operated a barbecue.

It's not because I was spoiled growing up, ohhhhh no. I worked hard in other ways. Have you ever spent a 35 degree day with zero shade walking up and down a field throwing bales of hay up onto a wagon? It was because I was such a clumsy kid my parents didn't dare let me operate anything motorized. I would have absolutely been the kid you hear about on the evening news that runs itself over while mowing the grass and gets chopped into little bits.

Anyway, it's time to take off the white kid gloves because I'm going to be doing all these things and more very soon. We do our final walkthrough this weekend and if all goes well, we'll have the keys by Monday. (Who am I kidding? I'm still not going to mow the lawn.) And then it'll be two weeks of cleaning, painting, moving, unpacking and decorating. Goodbye apartment, hellooooo housey.

I am feeling totally unprepared. Hold me.

In six short days, we get the keys to our new home. Pete and I are both very excited. Only one of us is freaking out. Hint: this person wears makeup, drinks Diet Coke and occasionally menstruates. Any guesses?

How do men stay so bloody composed all the time? They maintain this veneer of calm no matter what's going down. Peter could be engulfed in flames and he'd just stop, drop, and roll like it's his job, without making a peep. I'd be a fireball running screaming into the night. I would burn to a crisp. Peter would dust himself off and go eat a piece of chicken and not even mention the incident again.

So, as per usual the moving thing is playing out like everything else we do as a couple, with me being an agitated witch and him remaining completely unruffled. Well folks, this move is going to be unlike any other because guess what? I'm turning over a new leaf. Welcome to Operation: Don't Panic.

Rather than being the crrrrrrrrazy wife who shrieks and cries and throws sharp things and acts insane when the going gets tough, I'm going to basically pretend I'm a dude. I'm going to put stuff in cardboard boxes and not shed tears about it. I'm going to purge my closets and drawers and not get sentimental about keeping things. The less stuff I keep, the less stuff I have to pack, is my new mantra. It all needs to get done, and I can either cry and bawl or I can shut up and do it, right?

Right.

I will put on my music and pack my things like a normal human being and not a tempermental hyena. I will clean the new house without stabbing anyone. I will paint the new cupboards and walls peacefully and reward my hard work with a nice cold Moose Light. I will remain presentable throughout the unpacking and decorating process and the new neighbours will not have to cover their kids' ears to muffle the sounds of my cursing.

And in less than three weeks we are going to be snug and cosy in our new, clean, pretty house and I'm going to look back and say, "That wasn't bad at all! Why was I such a psycho?"

Operation: Don't Panic commences now.

There are countless articles and news reports about how women lug far too much stuff around on a daily basis in our bags, how it can throw our spines totally out of wack, and how we'll become some sort of sideways Quasimodos by age 35 unless we start leaving unnecessary stuff at home. Well, doctors, I am going to have to disagree. Carrying around granola bars in assorted flavours, 15 lip products in different textures and shades, and a selection of emergency tampons in various absorbencies is not negotiable.

Fabulously Broke shared an interesting post today about the value of what we carry around every day. The theory is that most gals are hauling hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars' worth around on the regular. She did an analysis of everything that's in her bag, including the bag itself, and tallied up the result. I decided to try it too.

Bag: $450. (Remember that Coach post from last week? And how I was going to go "look" at the bags?)
Sunglasses: $6. Yay Forever 21!
Phone: $150.
Wallet: $65.
Cash: $4.27. Big spender!
Sharpie: $3.
Burt's Bees lip balm: $3.
Camera:$150. I don't usually have my camera in there but I brought it along for the weekend.
Prescription glasses: $200.
Headband: $4.
Calcium chews that I overdose on because they're chocolate: Probably about $1 worth. I am going to have a BULLETPROOF skeleton.
Granola bar:75 cents?


TOTAL $1,037.02

I have never considered this before. Suddenly, I feel a lot more paranoid.
Please don't rob me.

How much are you carrying around?