My ass hurts in places that I didn't know existed nor can I describe.
My life is strewn across two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. I have a hidden bag of sexy time stuff, in hopes that my mother/father/brother/and or sisters don't try to "help me" by putting my things away. Walls are painted. Floors are washed. And after 4 whole days of exhaustion, I am in!
Last night was my first night in my new house. I barely slept. But it's mine. All mine. Funny thing about moving is your forced to dig up the past and look at things you've hidden from sight and mind for so long. I found a love note from my high school boyfriend. I found a "About Us" book about "The one who shall not be named". I found things that mean more to me than I care to admit. (I think I'll do a post about all of the funny shit I found, however I have to dismember the large amounts of shit in garbage bags and boxes immediately so I don't have to wear dirty clothes for the next week. Santa's watching. ) But most disturbingly, I found more god-damned lingerie purchased for Shamus than is reasonable or sane. Let's get serious people. I'm not small. I'm not huge either. I think pretty average but typically harder on myself than necessary. My jeans are a size ten and my boobs are HUGE.
|They aren't THAT bad guys. Jeez.|
WHY THE FUCK DID I SPEND THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS ON SHIT THAT CLEARLY IS NOT MADE FOR MY BODY TYPE!
I think I'll try it all on later just to add to my manic depression. Although this house must be christened immediately. Perhaps a visitor tonight??!!