Boxes Packed: 10
Boxes Moved: 8
Recovered Items: 4.5
Beverages: 3 beers, 1 martini
Broken Items (as of 10:30 PM): ZERO
Today was a wild success, especially considering the first time I moved I was doing 85 down the Cross Island Parkway with a mattress sticking out the back window of my ex boyfriend’s barely-street-legal Durango (I’m pretty sure I took it without him knowing), hung over, and the last time I moved I spent the 4 days up to it watching tv and drinking beeeeeeeehas, smashing (at least) 11 pint glasses.
I had boxes this time. Boxes! And tape. AND a marker.
Granted, it took me 3 hours to even get started – 2 hours to find a home depot and 1 hour to remind myself if I was tipsy by the time Mom swung by to help me out, she’d kick my butt.
I didn’t kill my landlord, not even when she disturbed my packing groove to show the apartment to an unsuspecting woman (who she’s planning on over-charging), or asked me to stay another year.
I found 3 remote controls, 5 nail clippers, a broken digital camera (that’s the half), and 5 rolls of Christmas wrapping paper. I made friends with my new Super, and the lady a few apartments down invited me over for wine when I move in.
I don’t know if it was one of those “I’m just being polite and don’t really mean it” invites, but I don’t care. I’m going anyway.