Is Moving Into a New House Always So Chaotic?

This past weekend we officially became residents of Colorado Springs. Bought a house and all. Bribed friends with beer and pizza so they'd help us transfer worldly goods from storage to living facility.

Plus I offered enlightening conversation.

Example: "I've never seen an electric screwdriver before. How does it work?"

Just in time to save my brain from melting, we finally got Internet service yesterday. Back to blogging while learning how to use the DirectTV remote and decipher maps so I can find my way around the corner without losing my mind.

Especially fun - this god-forsaken area of the planet doesn't post mailboxes out in front of the homes. We have to go down the street where there's this silver box-like contraption. Apparently I must insert a key and unlock the box to retrieve mail.

Ran into several neighbors this way. Who seemed slightly judgmental at all the threatening collection notices from St. Joseph's Hospital and unusual packages from Passion Toys Inc.

Housewarming gifts and all.

Standing there, trying to get my key in the hole, brought me back to college. We'd all stumble toward the community mailbox, hung over and blinking from the oppressive sun, looking for that check from parents who wish we'd self-support already.

Except instead of Lollapalooza shirts, we're now wearing robes and sipping bourbon-laced Starbucks.

Good times.

Gotta register the kids for school today. Now which of the nineteen boxes holds their birth certificates...

While I'm looking for paperwork, do something productive:

If you run a website, consider joining the Fox Attacker Coalition.

My kids are complaining that the PlayStation doesn't work. Great. That means I'll have to *talk* to them.

Where's that f*cking screwdriver?