As we type, I'm sitting in my neighborhood Starbucks because we won't have internet in our new place for another week. I really don't mind not having internet, but it stinks mainly because I just want to blog. For once, I've had a lot to say this week but no internet in which to communicate it with. First world problems, man.
It feels like I'm in college again when I did all my homework at Starbucks because my roommate was crazy and my neighbors were wasted and screaming off the balcony at all times of day and night. And instead, I'm once again surrounded by older men wearing nose-burning cologne, unfortunately loud men with Indian accents, and asians. Lots of asians wearing headphones. They're a Starbucks staple.
|me + soy chai = true love 4ever|
Anyway, we moved! AND IT WAS HORRIBLE. No, really. It was horrible.
We woke up Saturday morning, moving day 1, to rain. Not just any rain, but a pouring, soaking rain with no end in sight. We hopped in the car to drive thirty minutes to find the truck we rented. Not a moving truck, because those were sold out everywhere within an hour of us, but rather a pickup truck. Not ideal, especially in the rain, but better than nothing. It took us longer than thirty minutes to get the truck, because downtown Columbus is a construction nightmare right now, and every exit to anywhere is blocked. It's truly a joy to navigate, especially in unusually heavy morning traffic during downpour.
When we got back, I went to our new apartment where I found a broken door I hadn't noticed before, as well as a broken lock on the door off the balcony that I had to call maintenance to fix asap. To say my mood was less than stellar would be a polite way of saying things. Thankfully, my parents were saints and helped us move for the few hours we had the truck. And then someone asked me what I wanted for lunch and I started crying, because sometimes you're so tired and stressed the little things like choosing lunch will send you over the edge. And during this whole ordeal, it poured. Cats and dogs. Cows and horses. Whatever animal you choose, they fell from the sky. Until. Until! Until we got in the truck to return in. The second we pulled onto the highway, the clouds parted and the sun came out. I bleeping kid you not. Life is hard, dude.
On Sunday, James and I woke up with every part of our bodies aching. We spent the entire day lugging boxes down three flights of stairs, loading them in a car, then unloading the car and carrying those boxes up 2-3 more flights of stairs. Just the two of us. All day long. Moving very slowly because exhaustion and because I have a husband with back problems. And then we took Monday off to do it ALL. OVER. AGAIN. You don't know how tiring and painful moving is until you do it. And it gets worse every time, no matter how many things you think you've purged ahead of time. It is never enough. On Monday we took the method of throwing things off the 3rd floor balcony and hauling them to the dumpster instead of moving it. If it wasn't necessary for survival, we tossed it. And still, it wasn't enough. It's never enough.
We finally turned the keys in to our old place after work today. WE ARE DONE. WE. ARE. DONE. Aside from some help from my parents (THANK YOU), James and I did the whole freaking thing ourselves. The whole thing. Maybe that doesn't sound bad, but it was bad. But even though it was seriously one of the hardest things we've done, I'm proud of us. I feel like we earned this apartment.
Speaking of, THE APARTMENT. I had no idea I could love walls and space so much. It's perfect. It's the perfect place for us right now. It makes my love of the library look like a summer fling. I feel like we could be happy there for awhile. Especially since this is our view:
From the kitchen and living room, all you can really see out the window are leaves and branches. It feels a bit like we're living in a forest, and I love it. As soon as I get rid of the maze of boxes and take a much needed trip to Ikea, I might post pictures. Maybe. We've got a lot of work to do, but I've been too busy letting my muscles recover while watching Season 1 of Gilmore Girls and making sure the cat isn't too traumatized.
I hope this post makes sense. I'm so tired I can taste it, and I'm not even sure I could tell you my full name right now. I got to work yesterday forcing myself to stay awake when the girl next to me said she was tired because she stayed up "sort of late" and I was like B*TCH PLEASE. You have no idea.
And on that note, I have another episode of Gilmore Girls waiting for me. Or my bed. Or both.
|have I mentioned lately that we're tired?|