Moving is a beast.

Last week I had the pleasure of moving everything out of my apartment.
Moving is always a stressful and annoying experience, and you would think I would be used to it by now considering I moved my whole family within Kentucky 4 times in 6 years.

It's always good for me in a way though because it helps me to get over my pack rat ways and throw things away. To demonstrate how much of a pack rat I am, I found birthday cards from my 15th birthday in my drawers! I reluctantly threw them away, only to change my mind 5 hours later, as I dug through my trash to recover them in a frenzy. My goal is to scrap book them, but knowing me, I will probably get around to it when I am 75 and retired (because by that time, I'm sure that will be the common retirement age anyway).

Despite what you may conceive as my inability to throw anything away, I still managed to literally fill up the dumpster by my apartment building with my trash! So, I think I did a good job.

One thing that sucks about moving is how stressed I get.
I would be fine, normal, and dandy one minute, and then something would happen and I would completely snap.

When we were moving my stuff into Gary and Stephen's apartment temporarily during my homeless week before moving into Sophia's house, I realized that I had left Kyu- in the car. CRAP! right? So I run down the stairs and I'm freaking out because I am so worried about my little furry potato having heat exhaustion.

Then there is this stupid yappy dog and his equally dumb owner who is like "it's okay, he won't do anything! Stop barking, she is scared." Honestly I wanted to say, "(a) I'm not scared of your dumb dog, (b) what do you mean it won't do anything? It already bit my foot, and (c) by the way, your dog is ugly." Alas, I kept the thoughts to myself and went outside to get Kyu- (no worries, he was fine!)

Luckily I am officially moving into Sophia's house this Saturday (thank you Gary and Stephen for being so hospitable) and I won't have to worry about moving antics for a while.