So my moving truck is packed. It feels strange. I think it's not as sad/weird as it could be, since I'm only moving for three days, and then coming home for a week or so, and THEN I am permanently relocating my person. (Permanently for a year, I mean.) This is what I learned:
- moving heavy things makes people cranky
- it's very important to lift with your legs
- don't put ALL your dishes in the same box because it makes it really heavy and uncomfortably fragile
- moving heavy things makes people cranky
One of the things I am looking forward to about living on my own is that when I am not cranky, there will be no one else cranky in my immediate proximity to infect me with their crankiness. (I know this is hypocritical because sometimes I am cranky for no reason without regard for others too, but I am glad that when I wake up happy I will not be confronted with a grouchy person.)
When thinking about my move, it always comes one extreme at a time. Either I focus on all the good stuff and I am excited, or I focus on all the bad stuff and I am freaking out. Why can't I just have one good thought and one bad thought at a time, to balance each other out? Or, several good thoughts and one bad thought? Why is my brain so dumb?
Also my mysterious wrist pain is back. Bad timing, wrist! Please try again in a few days, when I am not required to lift heavy things.
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