Move It

Phew! So much for Sunday being the day of rest! After four hours of moving 40-some boxes with two very helpful friends, I'm officially a resident of Chez Dave. (You didn't think I'd keep his name a secret forever now, did you?)

Of course moves don't come without annoyances. I arrived at U-Haul promptly at 10 a.m. for a four-hour truck reservation and stood in line with other naive, ready-to-move customers who thought the company would be ready for the onslaught. Nope. After a 30-minute wait, the solo U-Haul employee at the counter grumpily told me my truck was still due back at 2 p.m, despite the long wait to get the keys.

We probably could have met the 2 p.m. deadline if the U-Haul truck actually fit a one-bedroom apartment like it boasted. Instead, we had to make two trips - one to my storage unit across town (there went 40 minutes) and one to his our apartment. Eventually I had to call U-Haul to extend my reservation through the end of the day. It's just money, right?

Keeping spirits high during this ordeal is credited to one thing: a large Diet Coke from McDonald's. After spending a fortune on moving supplies, a storage unit and U-Haul, I'm now $400 poorer. Well, make that $401 after that Diet Coke. (And, yes, that's a box of tights and CDs ... about 70% tights and 30% CDs. Priorities.)

Bacon wasted no time using the boxes as his personal jungle gym. He's going to be sorely disappointed when we finally unpack. I expect mews of unrest.

Success is still smiling after a day of moving. Achy muscles and sweat be darned, I'm living with my boyfriend! Holla! (Note the ever-so-appropriate footwear for moving day.)

Now, will you please excuse me while I head back to my old apartment to vacuum five year's worth of dust.