Hyperventilating

Ok I'll admit it ( but only because my husband doesn't read my blog) I got a little ummm... testy...last night.  It may have had a little bit to do with the pregnancy hormones, or just being tired, but I'm pretty sure it had a lot more to do with the fact that everything I needed to do last night went against the very nesting instincts I'm starting to listen to lately. I've spent the last two weeks sorting, purging and organizing in my scrapbook room. It was starting to look great- good thing too, because our renovations came really close to being canceled, and it made the thought of not having the room redone that much more bearable.

Yesterday, the contractors woke up and realized they were close to missing an important milestone in our project, ( and close to losing the job). It took 4 men, (5 if we include my husband) half an hour to conclude they couldn't possibly confirm any design plans until they started ripping out the ceiling and planning overhead duct work- ( Duh! we knew that 5 weeks ago!)

So- guess when they are starting "exploratory" demolition? Yup! TODAY.
 Guess who was up until 1:30 am moving precious scrapbooking supplies, computer, cricut, camera...
No, not my loving husband, (who was content once the computer was moved). Me- the neurotic scrapbooker. Mark kept saying "they'll tape up the area's they aren't  cutting to keep the dust out".

The experienced voice in my head reminded me of how effective plastic sheeting has been in the past, how plaster dust doesn't really care what precautions you've taken, and how likely it really was that anyone coming in to cut into my ceiling was going to view my scrapbook stuff as valuable.

I don't have any before photos- not until we hear more news about the hard drive recovery.

But if you've ever seen my room, you'll appreciate these...this is what I was left with at 1am:

everything REALLY important (except my albums) got relocated here:

 ...and here:

I keep reminding myself it's only for two months, and hoping that the boys will be understanding and share the playroom with Mama's stuff. I still haven't figured out a safe place for my trimmer...