GSD

There is a phrase Hugh and I use that was born of the abbreviation trend with a dash of Jersey Shore influence.

GSD.

Get ShStuff Done.

Much like The Situation’s routine of GTL ….

Hugh is an expert at GSD — he makes a list a mile long and keeps working on it, crossing things off until it’s done. If productivity is his strong suit, procrastination is mine. Thank goodness for Hugh or I might never get anything done. Well… that’s an exaggeration, but not by much.

Last night, even though my day-long caffeine high was wearing off, our apartment was GSD central.

I got home from work and did more work work.

Cooked dinner.

Did loads upon loads of laundry.

Actually put the laundry away.

Cleaned up the kitchen.

Worked on some finances.

Did some more work work.

Wrote, addressed and stamped a bunch of thank you notes (and even dropped them in the mailbox).

Cleaned up the bedroom closet (that is, put all my shoes away).

Prepped some food for the rest of the week’s lunches.

Watched the Redskins’ disappointing loss.

Made it to bed by midnight.

Needless to say I am exhausted today. And needless to say, I only put a small dent in the to-do list. Still left this week — fitting in venue visits and priest meetings around baseball games and tailor appointments.

And grocery shopping.

And cleaning the bathroom.

And finishing Rebecca’s wedding details.

And uploading pictures from the last several weeks.

But the more I’m motivated to get stuff done, the more accomplished I feel when I finally get to bed. (And the more I feel okay with escaping to Blacksburg for the weekend without chores looming).

Is this what responsibility feels like?

I Know It's the Middle of September But…

August just went by so fast!

It all started, as most months do, on the 1st. August 1st, that is, when I started my new job (same company, new position, whole new world).

And then the month ticked away, as most months do, without me hardly knowing where the time was hurrying off to. Though I do remember pausing to make it out on the water one more time and to see two wonderful friends tie the knot. And there was an earthquake and a hurricane in there somewhere as well…

Oh yeah, and then the last weekend of the month, Hugh proposed at me.

And a few days later, we moved from two horribly unorganized apartments into one smaller one. It will forever live in my memory as the move that took forever. We drove that trailer up and down the highway, back and forth 30 or so miles, stopped at each apartment a time or two, and by the end of it we came home to our new place full of stuff we could barely stand to look at.

Oh, moving.

It started so innocently, with this little helper guy guarding my packing paper:

And this scene of chaos with furniture and bubble wrap and bridal magazines strewn about in my old place:

And then we moved for 18 hours straight, went to sleep, woke up bright and early to move some more. I of course did not take any pictures as I was busy having a mental breakdown over the sheer physics of the stuff-to-space ratio of our new place.

But eventually, things started coming along.

First and foremost, the board games got organized.

We put pictures up as we unpacked them, and I instantly fell in love with the fireplace (wood-burning!) and mantel.

And there was still stuff all over our dining room

But I had already organized the kitchen masterfully!

It has already been a wonderful place for me to cook and for Hugh to clean up and pack our lunches. It doesn’t hurt that you can see the TV from the sink.

We did end up having to shove stuff in closets this past weekend (our first normal one in the apartment) when we had a guest for two nights and hosted a game-watching for VT football Saturday.

Hugh lead the charge.

And by Saturday we had a cozy apartment for eating, beer-drinking, football-watching relaxation.

Now we just have to finish finding places for things, organize the patio we use for storage, and plan a wedding.

Eeesh.

Meanwhile, Lily (who moved to the parents’ house to avoid the moving chaos) is living the life of luxury.