-- William Gibson, All Tomorrow's Parties
Spent Tuesday packing and getting everything moved into the new place.
After moving a van full of stuff out of Hahnemann and then all my junk, Andrew, Evan and I spent about four total hours moving crap around the city. The new place (Pete's) is a trinity, which means it's small, three stories, and has Death Stairs up which no bed may climb.
So Russ (the landlord's son) helped us get the bed (slightly smaller than a queen, and freaking heavy) up into the second story window using nothing but a power cord and a threat against Pete's life (who was pushing the thing up the wall on top of a step ladder).
I didn't do much of the work on that one, and was busy pulling the end into position from the third floor, so didn't get to see the glorious moment when the bed went in the hole.
My week has been insane even without moving. Work continues to be strenuous. I was up all Tuesday night, curled in pain, because I'm a weak little bitch of a nerd. Yay for strained muscles. Always my arms.
Last night Mike and I left work just as it started pouring rain, and for the ten seconds I was out of the car (he dropped me off in the city), I managed to get completely soaked. Spent the rest of the night finishing up my room and hanging out with Pete.
He suggested I read Abarat by Clive Barker, so I started it last night as well. About a hundred pages in, enjoying it thus far. Suitably weird.
Tomorrow my parents are flying in for ten days.
This is going to be interesting.