moving saga part 4697: the day my patience and sleep ran off to elope and died in a plane crash on the way there.

Yesterday was the Monday from hell. It crawled up from the bowels of the netherworld and slapped my ass with a big fat "have a nice day sucka".

Marathon packing this weekend I had almost everything ready to go for the movers, but of course to get to that point I went to bed in the wee hours on Monday morning, woke up 4 hours later from shitty sleep, went to work at the butt crack of dawn, ran home to meet my movers when they were supposed to be there.....and waited.....and waited some more.

I waited so long my oven looks like it would on the Sears showroom floor. I even swept underneath it. And then moved on to the freezer. Two hours and change later, they showed up. They worked steadily but it still took them two hours. And I used more space than estimated = more bloody money. Just great. By 1:30 I was hot, hungry, and testy. What will fix that? A quick lunch with the sister, brother and nephew. I get out of my car and reach for my wallet while simultaneously dropping my fucking iphone.

Empty purse. Phone on the pavement.

Wallet on counter from paying second payment of move.

Thankfully, my sister saved the day, I hoovered lunch, ran back to work, worked until close, got my hair cut and then had a wonderful dinner and chat with a friend and mentor. After which I had to return to my empty apartment with my freaked out cat to "blow up" my accommodations for the next few nights and make my bed. Do you know how weird it is to be sleeping in an empty 1400 square foot apartment? It's echoy canyon weird.


I'm so nice and shiny now assholes.

And it's all become real that in 2 days I am headed East. Now that my stuff is gone it definitely means no turning back and it's exciting and strange and a little nerve destroying. I'm anxious to begin and sad to leave.

Hello bittersweet.