An itch I'm trying not to scratch

I look like I got into a hardcore wrasslin' match with a poison ivy plant.

Oh wait ... I did.

Never in my life have I had to endure this ridiculousness. Ever. All my years of wandering through wooded areas with friends, going horseback riding through thick grasses and playing in areas you'd think poison ivy would grow, and where do I pick up this itchy, scratchy rash?

The flower bed at Future Home.

The desk has left the building

Trying to stay organized while gradually moving into one house and out of another while also trying to keep the house we're moving out of in some sort of livable fashion and the new house from melting into a puddle of chaos is challenging.

You follow that? We're talking full-on shaking with frustration over everything kind of challenge over here in Naked Baby Land. 

But maybe that frustration is a sign of making headway? Or I'm just an asshole who wants everyone to check my list before they touch/move/breathe on anything in their personal space.