I Think I Already Packed My Ruby Slippers.
Anyway, today is the big move. I've had to hire some movers to come over and move the rest of my stuff. I was only able to move a little bit. My trick leg kept going out on me climbing up the stairs. Plus, I was only able to take what I can fit into my car, which is not really that much. I was going through a full tank of gas like every two days going back and forth from the house to my apt. Ridiculous. So, the movers are coming at 12 noon. I've never used these movers before, so I don't know how punctual they are. I kind of hope they are a couple of hours late, because I still have my entire room to pack up and my bathroom. I managed to get a lot done yesterday. I worked on packing and even made two trips to my apt. in 12 hours.
I went to bed this morning at like 1am. I set my alarm for 5am. I woke up at 4:30am. I did some packing 'till about 6:30am and then I just couldn't stand it anymore, so I had to go back to bed. You know, no matter how hard I try to push it, my body just doesn't work the way it used to when I was in my twenties. I feel like it should, because, in my head, I don't feel 36. Dammit. Still, I managed to get a lot done yesterday, especially for having to deal with my back and my trick leg. I'm proud of myself for that. At the end of the day, though, I felt like a cripple. My back felt all twisted up. I think I was even walking kind of crazy-kind of bent over to one side, with one shoulder high and one shoulder low. Imagine that with a profound limp and you've got a picture of what I was going through yesterday. Freakin' hunchback-that's me. Oh yeah, can't believe I almost forgot to add the cursing. There were copious amounts of every curse word you could possibly imagine issuing from my mouth.
I called this one guy that does handiwork for me and dad sometimes, last night, to ask him if he would come and take my beloved hand-carved, banana-leaved ceiling fans down and put them up again in my new place. He said that he would have to charge bw 75 and 100 dollars to do it. Thank you NO. I have already spent around 1500 just to get into this apt., plus all the deposits to get the utilities turned on. Man, I feel like people think I'm a money tree-just shake me and money will fall like apples. May I never have kids.
I did, however, get a job. It's an extremely shitty job, but it's a job and I need a job. It's raising money over the phone for the Special Olympics. Yay. I get to be cursed out by people I don't know. Hopefully, it will be somewhat better than it was the other times I've done it. I'm older now and significantly more bitter, sarcastic and snarky, not to mention, more likely to say exactly what I'm thinking at the drop of a pin than I ever have been. I guess it's age. I think the older you get, the less you care about what people think of you. So, I think I'll start Monday. I'll find out tomorrow. I'll try to be polite, I promise. I can't guarantee anything though.
I just can't wait to get all of my shit moved into the new place. That way, I can take my time unpacking. I feel like I've been in this huge rush ever since I put the deposit down on my apt. Granted, I tried to move everything except the furniture for two weeks and only managed to get one closet of clothes, some shoes, two bags of my childhood stuffed animals (I can't part with them.), most of my kitchen dishes, all of my linens, some candles (I have enough candles to burn my house down. I think I'll put them in the fireplace for now since I don't have any wood to burn a fire. I actually have a wood burning fireplace at my apt.. Pretty cool. Yes?)
I still think my dad is in shock that I'm actually moving. For the past two days, he's asked me, "Are you still moving?". I'm convinced that he's convinced that I won't be able to make it on my own. I must admit that I'm quite scared and anxious about that myself, given my record of emotional downward spirals. But, you know, I had those before when I was living on my own and they came with all their punchinthestomach power and I got through them somehow (God). My mom and my aunt told me that ever since I've moved in with dad that I haven't been able to deal with my emotional ups and downs at all i.e. the cutting incidents, staying in the house for weeks on end and the not being able to bathe thing or to brush my teeth thing (Yes, it's gross. I know, but there it is.).
I'm going to end my very verbose morning now and finish my coffee. I have to finish the packing (see: the Dunkin' Donuts guy-makethedonutsmakethedonutsmakethedonuts). God, I'm so freakin' tired.
When I get all unpacked, I'll take pics of the new place, just because I'm vain and because I know you guys are nosey like me and want to see it.
Labels: Dad-isms, navel gazing