Tim and Patsy have sooooooo much shit...
Tim is getting very nervous, which means that he is getting irritable and micro-managing. Because he is one of the best movers, it is somewhat amusing to see how it all breaks down. I've long held that moving is great fun as long as it's not you who are moving, because then it's all your own shit and you get (understandably) nervous. This is just proving it.
It's also interesting to have to work with a very pregnant Patsy, who, of course, wants to do everything. I packed up the glassware and plates, with the comment that Tim's cousin Christopher (who will be accompanying her up to Pearl River in preparation for the truck's arrival) should be the one to handle these boxes. No, she figures she can handle the box I labelled "Supercallifragileisticexpialodocious." Meanwhile, she's commenting that Sally is aerobicizing in there. Yeah, great idea.
No, I'm not pissed. It's all part of the fun. You see, it's like my Jenga mp3 CD... or an interest in drama in the first place: it's all about about watching people function under stress.
All right, I haven't heard from Tim in a few minutes. This computer is getting torn apart. Peace!