Move it!

Tomorrow, we start moving into Our Closet.

We don't have to move it all in one go, which is nice in terms of stress, but difficult in terms of chaos.

Having been a transient mover all my life, I've noticed that the 'easiest' moves can turn out to be the hardest.

Like moving 'across the hall'.

That seemed like a dream!

However, I realized I made more trips than if I had moved further away.

The worst 'easy' move was the one I did a floor above my apartment.

I did it all with a laundry basket.

That was awful and I had blisters.

For this one, Papi said, "Let's just throw it in garbage bags."

No fucking way.

Done that one too.

You get halfway up a flight of stairs and the bastard rips on ya!

No, we're doing it the right way.

I've packed up the majority of the kitchen and it only took a few minutes!  We have nothing!

Our clothes?

No sweat!  There's hardly any!

The only part that is going to be difficult is watching Papi carry everything by himself.

Being the stubborn burro that mi esposo is, he refuses to ask for help.

Imagine him trying to get a couch up a flight of stairs all by himself!

I'm not joking.

These are the things he does.

There's one box I can carry; his Band-Aids.

You heard me right.

He has an obsession with them.

Here are some in the upstairs closet.

 

There's more downstairs.

Seriously.

Right now, Papi is telling me he needs to buy more, because he uses them for different things.

Different sizes for different things.

Obsession.

With Band-Aids.

They'll need a box all their own. 

However, I think my bitch of a back can carry that one, while papi is struggling with a king size, massive mattress all alone.

I won't be putting my back out trying to lift heavy stuff.

I'll just carry the Band-Aids and wait for him to have an opportunity to use them.

Tomorrow!

454 sq. ft. with a 5 animal Fuzzy Family.

Papi has handcuffed himself and says he's not leaving his mansion.

i strive to improve myself