Uuuuuuugggggghhhhhh moving sucks ass. Even when it goes well it's sometimes difficult not to feel overwhelmed by the task of moving zazzilians (that's like oodles or lots) of your personal belongings. Highlights today include: 1) screeching "Oh, that's my underwear!" when I realized that they were visible through my laundry basket and thus also visible to the friends who were helping us move; 2) taking out the lamp post in our rental home while trying to back a UHaul truck into the driveway;* 3) finally being finished and enjoying this fine brew on a sprightly air mattress:
Before I entered therapy for my eating disorder I was afraid of beer. That was sad. Luckily, living in Boulder, where there is an abundance of craft brews, has slowly reminded me of why beer is so freaking fantastic--mmmm! I don't love Belgian-style beers, but the fiancé loves a little (Avery's???) White Rascal so I try to buy some "girly" beers for him to enjoy as well. (Double IPA=more up my alley)
I'll explain more about our living/moving situation in a future post, but suffice it to say that we will be staying in Southern Colorado for the next week or so while our new house is being finished. Aside from moving today, a full weekend recap would include volunteering at a gala for the local humane society:
*Luckily I'm my only reader, so the chances of our landlord seeing this are slim. . . (fingers crossed he won't notice the busted-ass lamp post)
Somehow the underwear thing seems to be a special theme of moving house in the US. You're the third or fourth lady I know who had a "OMG, they can see my underwear" moment while moving. Which, if said out loud, obviously draws everyone's attention to the underwear.
ReplyDeleteAny guesses as to why that scenario doesn't play out in Germany, for instance?!
DeleteAlso, I would like one of these cheese plates, please.
ReplyDelete