i hate moving. i mean, i really hate moving. the act of putting things in boxes and taking those boxes and transporting them to a new location puts me in a rage, a physical and mental rage. i'm far more likely to break things, destroy things, throw things away - things that used to mean something to me - when i'm in the process of moving, just because i can't stand the process itself. add that to the fact that moving out of this apartment means 16 stairs up and 16 stairs down and i'm ready to shoot someone. i don't know whose dumbass idea it was to move all the way up here, but it was fucking retarded. that person needs to be taken outside and flogged. gahh.
roberto and i hauled several loads of crap to my new storage facility today. i'm tired. my arms are sore. my shoulders are sore. my feet are sore. my new shoes are super cute but they're not great for lots and lots of stairs. i bought a padlock, but i found out it only works when you remember to shut the door on your storage unit before you drive off. i am a retard, i know.
i was going to go out tonight, but after i came home and rearranged and packed some more, i had no energy. the idea of driving all the way to dsm and then driving all the way back takes all the fun out of drinking heavily. that and all the dui commercials and all the people i know getting dui's... i can't afford that. no domo arigato, mr. roboto.
ugh. i think i have to get up early in the morning, but i'm not sure. prospective (ha. i didn't stutter there, did i?) roomie and i are supposed to go look at a place to live in the morning. that's a long, long drive that early, but he's committed to driving. maybe i can sleep. :D
g'nite. i'm pooped.