Back In VanCity
Moving is hell.
After the hectic migration of cardboard boxes, I'd thought the remaining tasks of packing up the suitcases and cleaning the place would be relatively nothing, and could be completed in a couple of days. WRONG.
Well, it could be done, but provided I didn't sleep for the next 48 hours. It was horribly stressful, and far crazier than the rush to drop off my packages at the FedEx branch. What made it worse was that I wouldn't think it was a problem to fit in a mini-party with some of my friends to help me finish off all the perishable food in my fridge.
When it comes to packing up, you'll never have any idea of how much crap you have, even though you've barely bought anything for the past two years. My suitcases have never been so close to exploding, and if the TSA agents ever open them, it would certainly blow up in their face, making me a terrorist.
So when I FINALLY got everything together, me and my buddy (who's helping me move and taking me to the airport whether he likes it or not, because I helped him move, including rolling his fully-assembled bed into the elevator and up 18 floors) went to Coconut Grove for a drink with a whole bunch of other friends I have to say goodbye to. I was initially planning to crash at my buddy's place, but what the hell, I can sleep off my entire flight.
After the hectic migration of cardboard boxes, I'd thought the remaining tasks of packing up the suitcases and cleaning the place would be relatively nothing, and could be completed in a couple of days. WRONG.
Well, it could be done, but provided I didn't sleep for the next 48 hours. It was horribly stressful, and far crazier than the rush to drop off my packages at the FedEx branch. What made it worse was that I wouldn't think it was a problem to fit in a mini-party with some of my friends to help me finish off all the perishable food in my fridge.
When it comes to packing up, you'll never have any idea of how much crap you have, even though you've barely bought anything for the past two years. My suitcases have never been so close to exploding, and if the TSA agents ever open them, it would certainly blow up in their face, making me a terrorist.
So when I FINALLY got everything together, me and my buddy (who's helping me move and taking me to the airport whether he likes it or not, because I helped him move, including rolling his fully-assembled bed into the elevator and up 18 floors) went to Coconut Grove for a drink with a whole bunch of other friends I have to say goodbye to. I was initially planning to crash at my buddy's place, but what the hell, I can sleep off my entire flight.
I wake up in my bed, and stretched my arms out, and was surprised that my arms still have not extended beyond my futon bed. Did my futon just double in size? Then the epiphany that I was on a queen-size bed with a spring mattress faded in like a developing Polaroid photo. Even though I arrived not long in the afternoon yesterday, and had already spent half the day back home, it still felt like I woke up from a long dream, a dream involved hurricanes, beaches filled with people sexy and morbidly obese, and nightclubs. Oh yeah, and school.
Sorry for not putting an entry here for so long. It's taken me all week to find all the cables, USB hub, and other crap for my computer scattered amongst my luggage.
The first photo I take back home. Our house cat whom I affectionately call "Fat Bitch".
posted by Cosmic Ocean at 9:04 AM
2 Comments:
was this the once cute little kitty??
Yes. To see her turn out like this...Sad isn't it?
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