Moving Sucks, Dorito Tacos Don't

After packing everything I owned into dozens of $.67 boxes from Lowe's, a few minor panic attacks and a lot of hard work, I am finally moved into my new place.  Sure it smells like urine and it needs some TLC, but I got a deal on the rent so I am happy.  It will be fun to make the house shine again  I am also happy at the prospect that this could be my last move until I purchase a home next year.

So, I am sore, sleep deprived, tired of looking at boxes and especially sick of buying things that probably should have been in the house to begin with.  I don't trust any house that doesn't have a proper toilet paper holder.  Whether you use it (I'm speaking to the gentlemen readers right now) or not is completely up to you, but it should be there.  Everyone putting their gross fingers into the toilet paper tube.  Ewwww...

I haven't cooked in about a week.  Working yourself into a frenzy of hunger and having all of your pots and pans packed up means at some point during your move you will end up in a Taco Bell late on a Sunday night.  Devouring Doritos tacos like you're a high school stoner.  They hit the spot, but I felt a certain amount of shame at how satisfied my stomach was when I left the place.  Now, you can see how I became fixated on the toilet paper holder in the bathroom.

What tremendous social events did I miss during my move?  Snooki gave birth to a baby boy.  "No doctor, the baby does not have elevated bilirubin levels, that's spray on Coppertone!"  According to TMZ, nothing else more interesting happened so I will get back to the move.

The cable guy was basically on time, the furniture was delivered early while I was getting to know the neighbor and my movers finished without breaking my wallet.  Overall it was a good move.  The panic attack was uncalled for.  8 moves in three years, it seems I have this moving thing down to a science.

Let's just hope I can finally sleep tonight.