The move went extremely well, except that it sort of started on Halloween, which is awkward. Moving furniture out the door while Trick-or-Treaters are attempting to come in is not something I recommend. But my dad was in his element: moving heavy things while also scaring small children with his big dog (me: “Don’t worry, the dog is nice!” Dad: “Most of the time.” Me: “You can pet her, she doesn’t bite.” Dad: “At least not yet.”). My dad is a Man, and he wants you to know it.
The moving things in took about an hour, tops. Angi’s brother got mothered into helping, and while he showed up and did as promised, I’m pretty sure he will never do another favor for me, ever (“Help me move one thing” secretly means “Please lift this piece of furniture that weighs more than everything else I’m moving combined, possibly including my car. Enjoy your back injury!”). My parents went off to get a table from K&A, and in the three hours they were gone I unpacked and set up everything, including my books. My mom came back and dubbed my apartment the bookcellar. I live in a library.
So, to review: 2008 started in a house with the G-bird, then the house of rabbits, then the cabin with the poodle, then Bobby Vee’s house, then my parents house, then Steve’s couch, and now this. So maybe the bathroom is pink, and the baseboards are falling apart, and there’s a stain on the carpet and the closet floor is nasty and I don’t have a bed yet. No animals, no roommates, no living off of someone else’s charity: no problem.