Friday August 25

Special Post Note: All time breaks will be noted with *********************. When you see that, time has elapsed.

Friday, August 25, 2006:

After work tonight, I came home and did my The Landlady’s hair. She has been not only a great landlady, but more recently, a great friend. I confirmed with her that this would not be her last appointment with me, but that I would travel to her and do her hair even after I move. This sat well with her.

The Boyfriend came over and we had a quick rest. I’ve been so tired lately, what with all the moving and what-not. He’s come over to help me attack a few boxes, but really, I just felt like lying in his arms and being alone with him. I imagine that the next few days (weeks?) will have us more ‘discussing’ stuff than relaxing and smooching.

We both have our own way of doing things, and that is going to make it VERY interesting when we start unpacking next week. There will surely be ‘discussions’ re: Whose cutlery will we use? Which coffee pot? Where will this couch go? Whose _______ gets put out, whose goes into storage? It’s going to be fun!

The boyfriend just left. He’s coming down with something, and needed to go home and get some rest. Poor baby, I don’t like when people are sick. I just want to take care of them and make them all better… probably some impact from having a nurse for a mother. But, alas, I can not do. I have to stay here and get boxes ready for the big move tomorrow.

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OMG!!!! Just look around! There’s boxes everywhere. Where the hell do I start? We did some stuff in the kitchen, some stuff in the bathroom, there’s stuff that needs to be done in the bedroom. My God, how is this ever going to be ready for people to come tomorrow and help haul stuff? Next time I move I hope to be independently wealthy so that I can just hire people to do all this for me.

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Well, I just locked myself in the bathroom for a bit. I hate this. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. The bathroom seemed to be an easy place to start; I can’t see the mess and chaos in the rest of my 700 square feet. I organized all my shaving crème, toner, eye crème, T-zone Shine Minimizer etc etc etc into “BOX 20” and filled that line on my “Box Contents List”. Yes, I am that anal that I have a list of exactly what is in each and every box of my move… And yes, I am that gay that I have an entire box for just bathroom shit… and yes I have that much crap in my apartment that I am at BOX 20, and still have packing to do. Gimme a break.

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So… you wanna know the fun part? We all assumed that the new aparntment would be somewhat ready for us to move into tomorrow evening, but… no. The Boyfriend just called from the new place, and it is soooooo not even close. In our heads, we thought that my stuff would move seamlessly into the new spot; even if just one bedroom was ready or something, but apparently, the apartment is full of dust… and paint… and drywall… and dirt… and bugs… and all sorts of grossness. So, the NEW plan is: When everyone shows up tomorrow, we will start to move stuff into The Boyfriends apartment, rather than the new. Because 1300 sq. feet of stuff easily fits into 600. God, I wish I did drugs.

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Well, that’s it. I’m off to bed. I am so tired. I hope to get some sleep in the next… month? Is that too much to ask. I finished the bathroom, and took down my shelving. I finished the kitchen, with the exception of some dry food and what ever is in the fridge/freezer. I organized the boxes so that I have three piles:

1: Stuff getting hauled tomorrow.
2: Stuff getting picked up by their rightful owners tomorrow.
3: Stuff that really needs to get packed so that it can be hauled off tomorrow.

Mind you, it might just be easier if I toss myself and all my belongings off the damn viaduct in the night time.

It’s like 2:23 am and I have to be awake in 5 hours to go to work then move all day. God, I’m a whiney bitch tonight!