This is pathetic. Carrie and I got into our apartment last night and we started bring some stuff over. I didn’t bring much over. My arms? Are sore. Not excessively, but they don’t appreciate what I did to them. And I’ve barely begun! This is so sad. Of course, I did bring Heavy Box over last night (the one I intelligently filled with my hardcover texts and dictionaries). Not that that compares to how much my entertainment center or dresser weighs. Ugh. Moving sucks. And I have too much stuff. I have four boxes that are just videos and DVDs. Six boxes of books—and I’m only maybe 2/3 done with my book packing. I wish I had magical powers and could just levitate this stuff. Moving would be SO much easier.
Current song in my head:
“Build Me Up Buttercup” by the Foundations