I came dangerously close to a full-frontal freak-out last night. I walked in the door of our new house and saw the colors that Dre and I had picked out on the walls and realized that gah: I HATE THEM. The green was awful, and that darker blue? Terrible. What were we thinking?

Then I walked into the kitchen and realized that gah: it was filled with half unpacked chaos boxes vomiting flatware and towels and bags of lentils. There were so many boxes I couldn’t even get to other boxes. Agonizing.

Then I tried to make a phone call and couldn’t get the phone to work. Then I tried to make a cell call and my reception was shitty.
Then I almost lost it.

I was saved from the brink by the amazing Andreas who suggested we go buy some new green paint (eating $100+ in wasted ugly green paint, oh well), and then he said this: “I could work on painting while you unpacked the kitchen. Unpacking might help you regain your sense of order and control.”

Oh, the sweet sanctity of order. I spent two hours unpacking and arranging the kitchen and with each hello kitty cup and tea pot that went into the cabinets, my sanity inched closer. Jesus. I guess I really am a control freak. Oh: and praise the heavens for my amazing Andreas. He always knows how to fix me when I’m verging on broken.