Tis the moving season...

First off, let's take note that there is no exclamation point at the end of this post's title.  We should really invent a symbol that is the antonym of an exclamation point.  It would convey the utter depression and dismay that accompanies the dismal responsibility of moving housegirls in and out of their bedrooms. 

Anywho...the semester just ended which means that existing housegirls are moving out or changing rooms and new housegirls are moving in.  It might not sound that bad, but let's give a little example...  Girl A is moving into Room A, but Room A is currently occupied by Girl B.  Girl B is moving into Room C and although there is one vacancy in Room C, Girl B wants the bed, dresser and desk that is still being occupied by Girl C.  Girl C has work all week and can't move into Room D until the very last day of the term.  Girl D is moving into Room A, which starts the vicious cycle all over again.  Sometimes we'll even have girls from Room E moving into Room F and the girls from Room F moving into Room E.  If you're lucky, you can convince girls to move their stuff in to the hallway as a staging area so we can initiate the whole process.  And while all this is happening, House Mom can't make any plans because as each girl moves out of a room, I have to check them out.  It's pretty similar to moving out of an apartment; looking for damage to the furniture, inquiring about the gaping hole that magically appeared in the wall, playing who's stuff is this still hanging in the closet with the responses from both residents being "It's not mine.  I don't know who's it is."  So pretty much, House Mom completes one room check out (approximate duration = 10 minutes), gathers up paperwork and organizes the myriad of room keys swimming in my back pocket, walks back to House Mom and Dad's modest (syn = small, tiny but has a better connotation) living area and sits down on the ________ (insert 1 of 3 possible sitting areas:  couch, desk chair, bed), then ________________ (insert 1 of 3 potential activities:  reads one page of her new Border BOGO half off book, presses play on DVR'd tv show and doesn't even finish fast-forwarding through commercials, tries to pickup where she left off in her ancestry.com search for relatives (Yes, I'm researching my family tree and am aware it subjects me to endless ridicule), and then House Mom gets a text that another girl is ready to be checked out of her room.  This goes on for three or four more girls before House Mom really gets anything done.  So there.  That's why I need a de-exclamation point. 

~House Mom