This Monday was a day of learning. I learned so much this Monday. As it turns out, moving is the worst. That is what I learned. Moving sucks.
One would think that I would have had to do a full move from one house to another before I turned 21, but that didn’t happen. Moving into residence isn’t quite the same as moving into a new house, and the house I was in before gave me an opportunity to move in small waves, rather than in a single day. Unfortunately, this streak had to end. Due to my crippling inexperience regarding the matter, I was also hardly prepared, vastly underestimating the amount of stuff in my room, and completely forgetting that there were also a ton of kitchen appliances that weren’t going to get up and move out of the house on their own.
The worst part of this whole ordeal is that I only moved a block away. I woke up at 8 am and toiled for 11 hours straight going back and forth from house to house, dealing with the fact that a girl wouldn’t let us in the new place because she wanted to take a two hour nap. One block. This is only a taste of the horrible feelings that will accompany my next move—one in which the houses are separated by a two-hour drive.
A mere two days after my pathetic one-block house switcharoo, I still feel mental fatigue and physical pain. I can only imagine what the nightmare of a larger move will bring.
See you all Friday when I piss of my girlfriend by stealing her laptop and hammering a post out at her house after her family cooks me dinner.