Sometimes I talk to Bobby and it's as though we inhabit completely different realities.

This morning :

Me : I guess I should pick up some boxes today and get packing, huh?
Him : Don't you rather want to get the boxes at the same time as we pick up the U-Haul?
Me : What, you think we should pack everything the day before we move?
Him : Well, it's not as if you can really pack much in advance, can you?

He truly believes that we can pack everything in this entire apartment in two or three hours. We've moved - let's see - 12 times in fifteen years of marriage. This will be the 13th move. So you'd think he'd be familiar with the process. But apparently not.

The irony is, that by most standards, I leave everything to the last possible moment. It's just compared to Bobby that I seem to err on the side of prudence.