And then Derek’s mom is sending us pictures of all the stuff she set up at the house today. Without us there. Without asking permission to put away out stuff. Seriously, I know she has good intentions, but don’t go through my things. I was really looking forward to setting up my house the way I wanted it and I feel robbed of that now. And she’s so fucking happy with herself for helping us out. No. Stop.
We’re moving tomorrow. Super stressed out about it. Preparing for a day of Derek’s parents criticizing the placement of every box I put in the house and complaining that they have to help. Because apparently they have to help. I’d really rather they weren’t involved at all. God help me. I’m going to snap.