Yeah, that�s how I was Friday night until I woke up at 7:30 a.m. No time to worry about a pesky thing like being tired, so I showered, rounded up my things and drove away an hour later.

With only a few hours of sleep, I was deliriously giddy and silly, alternating between singing along with my CDs to yelling at offending drivers. I ate a granola bar to provide the needed energy to bounce around and make wild arm motions at morons who pass in the left lane when the right lane is open and they see me coming up fast on their left so why don�t they just go the other way and save me a headache and themselves the agony of watching me spit fire at them when zooming past?

Where was I? Oh yeah, one of these days I�m going to stop by the Tennessee Walking Horse National Celebration instead of passing by it in Murfreesboro. It�s at least got to be better than the Alabama Three-Legged Limping Horse Contest (also known as the Glue Stakes). Again, this has nothing to do with my trip.

By the time I arrived at The Trails a little after 11 a.m. central time, Scott and Jenn and about a half-dozen of their friends were already fully occupied in the moving project, having loaded all of the major furniture. There can�t be much after that, right? Not so much. The hard part actually was just beginning, and most of the guys were leaving soon.

	Nobody puts Baby, er, Jenn, in a corner!

Sisters Stacy and Stephanie drove in a little later on their way to Memphis, and Mom drove up from Chapel Hill to say hi and bye, too. With their help the task of clearing all the closets and packing little things scattered around the apartment became slightly easier. Besides, Scott and Jenn still had to decide whether to keep or toss many items. My rule of thumb is, if you can still wipe the dust off with a tissue, it's a keeper. If you need chemicals and tools to remove the dust, throw it away. Unless it's really cool. Their biggest concern was, if a container has a wasp nest in it, toss it.

I'm committed to telling the whole story, for better or worse, unless it involves something stupid I did. I feel I can't neglect to mention one of Scott and Jenn�s friends who came in after lunch to boss everyone around. She shall remain nameless, yet completely obvious to anyone in the vicinity, because she drove me so batty I preferred to lug heavy boxes and bags to the trailer rather than pack things in an air-conditioned environment.

Dear Diary,

Today this woman came to help Scott and Jenn move, which is a charitable exercise and worthy of thanks. Problem is, she made me feel bad about myself and angry, and I know God doesn't like that. When I grabbed a bag to put jackets in from the closet she stood in front of the closet, told me to open the bag and she�d dump stuff in. Sure, it was a little rude, but I can let that go. But then she told me to drop the water I was holding. �No,� I said, taking the only stand possible at the moment. It was awkward, for sure. A few minutes later, I�m in the computer room scanning things to decide if they�re to be kept or chucked when she starts barking at me to give her anything I'm touching. At this point I'm beginning to wonder if she's a control freak or a man-hater. It was at this point with her back turned that I slinked out and left her giving orders to an empty room.

Later I found out that my sisters and mother were just as offended when she walked into the bedroom and started to tell them to pack things they�d already packed, and tell them not to touch bags they�d just filled. It makes me sad that someone would treat my sisters and mother like that. We need a group hug!

The offense actually began at lunch when she plopped down a few seats away as my sisters, Mom and myself chatted and told us to �stop talking� so we could be introduced. Rarely does anyone get away with telling our loud family not to open our mouths. It's not that we had a failure to communicate; she just prefers the communication to be one way.

The goal was to fit everything in the trailer without taking up more than 10 feet, the amount Scott was contracted with ABF. Every foot more meant a lot more money. This quickly became a race against space, but we were losing horribly. The furniture itself came out to ten feet. Once the bags and boxes started getting tossed into empty slots like a life-size game of Tetris we had to concede that 11 feet was more reasonable. We managed that for about two hours, squeezing and inserting wherever a hole was found. The �last batch� became the deal breaker, pushing the load to 12 feet. Looks like the 10-foot goal was just a dream, about as feasible as a New Jersey Democrat governor holding on to his heterosexuality.

Did I mention that it was already hot when I arrived and after an afternoon deluge the air turned swelteringly muggy? I was sweating buckets and it didn�t help that I was outside organizing the trailer most of the time. It�s perhaps telling that I drank a dozen bottles of water yet had to pee just once between noon and midnight.

Finally � wait, this is a big deal, so all caps are warranted, nay, necessary � FINALLY, Scott locked the trailer at 7:30 p.m., eight hours after I arrived and almost twelve after they started loading. If all goes according to design, the trailer should meet us in Waco by Thursday. What's that old joke, "How do you make God laugh? Make a plan." Keep that in mind.

The walkie-talkies were an idea of genius by Scott and Jenn, enormously popular and helpful to our two-vehicle convoy. Sure, we used it to make sure we didn't lose one another and point out the fuzz, but more importantly the walkie-talkies were a source of entertainment to keep us awake with pop culture references and jokes, especially since Scott and Jenn were managing on less sleep than me. After midnight, from Jackson to Memphis, our passengers slept so Jenn and I stayed alert by talking continuously about Harry Potter and theological issues and Harry Potter�s theological issues (such as, �Do wizards believe in Jesus as Lord? They celebrate Christmas and Easter, after all.�)

FYI: If you're interested in our call signs, mine was Mr. Goodbar, Scott went by Lonestar, Jenn picked Rusty Nail and Tippy used Candy Cane, the last two from the teen horror flick Joyride. I'm proud to say that Tippy came up with her and Jenn's names, and I've never seen that movie. ... more than once.

For the one-millionth time listening to the Grease 2 soundtrack, I still have a few questions you guys may be able to help answer. In the song �Reproduction� the students are told to turn to "chapter two, page five." Just how short is chapter one? Three pages? Four? Does the textbook have 400 pages and 100 chapters? Is this �Mating for Dummies?� The next day we watched the first Grease on AMC. More questions: why must Sandy change herself and conform to Danny�s way so they can still be a couple? She was so cute and innocent, and the Pink Ladies and T-Birds turned her into a catsuit-wearing harlot. It's one more of those movies where the Midwestern guy or gal moves to the big city and is �taught life.� Hogwash. New York City can�t tell someone from Des Moines how things are supposed to be anymore than L.A., other than corrupt their morals in the process. I feel very strongly about this.

We got in after 2 a.m., Scott and I at Nana�s, Jenn staying at Tippy�s place near Wolfchase Galleria. Scott took the private bedroom since he and Jenn could use the big bed for a couple of nights. Stacy and Stephanie were on the air mattress while I crashed on the couch. The curse of the single man lives again!