Kansas is pretty much the surface of the sun...perhaps hotter, right now. I've smelled like a 12-year-old boy on the brink of puberty that hasn't had "The Big D" talk with his dad yet for about a month now along with looking like a greasy asshole. I'm quite tired of the perma sheen and salt film all over my body. However, I'll take some shininess as opposed to keeling over dead and taking my parents with me any day...which is what would have happened if we hadn't hired a couple of guys to schlep the massive amount of shit I own shoved into boxes down the stairs today. I'm a delicate flower that cannot be bothered with such grueling work. *burp* *fart* *snot rocket*
This was me a couple of hours ago:
Now it's all empty, echo-y and depressing...but all in a truck that I didn't have to load, so who gives a shit. See, this moving stuff makes me all bitchy.
Anyway, so yes, it's actually happening — I'm moving to Denver. My parents and I will spend the day barreling down I-70 in a U-Haul to Denver. Well, actually Goodland, Kansas, then Denver the next day. Oh, and check out the little friend that will be joining us on the trip:
Out of all the U-Hauls, of course there would be a giant, nasty bitch spider on mine. The only way this could be more ironically fucked up is if there was a U-Haul sized centipede plastered on the side of the truck.
I do have way more thoughts, deeper thoughts if that's possible about this moving thing and lots of stories to tell, but I'm so deliriously exhausted from not moving boxes that I must pass out...more later, of course.
But, before I go, please heed this post as a warning. Just to be safe, You might want to consider not only avoiding I-70 for the next couple of days, but also the entire state of Kansas because I will behind the wheel of this thing...just me, my Mom, my Dad, Andy the JRT and giant fuck spider.