Moving Is Such Sweet Sorrow

Now I'm REALLY glad I started working out.

Even though I've only been in NYC for about eight months, I have accumulated a LOT of stuff, most of it useful, but when you have to carry all that stuff on the A line from High Street to 181st, up about five flights of stairs and down a couple more, you appreciate the fact that you don't have EVERYTHING with you.

My roommate, however, does. And I helped her too..... (she helped me as well, albeit briefly, but proportionately with my amount of crap vs. her amount of crap)
So now muscles I didn't think I have hurt. MY RIGHT SHOULDER BLADE hurts and my ass hurts and other muscles that I'm sure hold my joints together hurt.

AND I STILL HAVE A LOAD TO GO. Not to mention that I'm anal retentive and like everything to be setup. So I spent the entire weekend (i.e. no drinking outside the house, no meals out - all taken in) setting up my new room, moving the crap that needed to be moved, etc. AND I spent Saturday night cleaning my old place.

My roommate, the lucky one, had a friend visiting and had to go out (her friend lives in Paris and is not around that often).

But if I hear another word about my roommate's room not being perfect, I'm going to kill her. Honestly. The girl has A LOT OF CRAP and most of it IS unpacked, and unless she spends more $$$ on what she wants, it's not gonna happen. And I'm certainly not going to unpack it. I love the girl, but SERIOUSLY!!! I did all the work on my room, you can do it on yours.

It's funny... I remember moving concurrently with all my friends a couple years back, and people make it out to be this huge thing when really, it's just coordination and dedication to a task. How hard is that, really? You find a time that you can get it done (and possibly when strong men or other physically equipped friends can help you, just as you'd help them), you set that time aside for JUST packing, moving and unpacking. Then it's done, and you can stop bitching about how you have no time to do it.

I REALLY didn't have time to do it. I work full time, was commuting to Bklyn and my new apartment was on the other side of Manhattan. Just getting between the two places took anywhere from a half hour to an hour. And then putting together the packing and the furniture-building (which I got Toddy Todd to do, since he's so wonderful) and my weekend was shot. Plus, finals were essentially forgotten - which was okay, because I needed a reason to blow them off. (Another new weird tendency of mine.)

But you know what? It's better that one weekend was shot (especially since I really didn't have money ANYWAY) than not being able to find the sweater I want to wear two weeks from now because my shit's not unpacked.

So the new apartment is ready - except that we have nothing in our fridge but yogurt, hard cider and champagne (and only one container of yogurt at that), our TV is precariously on the shelf, we're sitting on the floor in the living room because we have nowhere to sit otherwise (i'm buying a couch soon); and our toilet makes the most amount of noise in the whole place.

Happy Housewarming!