A good deal of family helped me pack and move nearly nineteen years of family memorabilia out of my childhood home in the last two days. Either I am more adaptable than I give myself credit for or I am too idealistic about how easy this move is going to be, but either way, I'm still ready (sore and exhausted, but ready). It took a much bigger uhaul to carry my things to storage (7 boxes, a bed, a chair and an ottoman) and my things that will be sold over the next few days (too much to even count - does anybody need a duvet or an old Britney Spears cd?).
But random "after two days of grueling manual labor" thought: is it totally egotistical to write a blog in the first place? I am actually a little bashful (albeit I am usually self-deprecating and am not showing a huge deviation from the norm) at the idea of someone besides my mother read what I am up to daily. Well, today, we drove, we worked hard and I sat in hot water in the hopes that my back doesn't feel like Tito Ortiz kicked my ass tomorrow.
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