The point is...I'm sweaty and I smell like a man. Packing tiny objects in big boxes is a lot more grueling than it looks like it would be. And deciding what to throw away and what to throw in the box because you just never know when you may need that dead AAA battery in the future gives me a headac he.
There's a good example of how sweaty I am. I meant to type "headache" and I would've succeeded had my sweaty finger not slipped off the C and hit the space bar.
So I'm moving in a little more than a week. And given the horrific things I know about the place I'm moving, I predict that by March I will either be dead, dismembered, or horribly twisted by a tornado. Maybe all of the above. But I am looking forward to seeing a cow fly through the air. Just as long as I'm not flying beside it wondering "Well, last thing I remember I was having a crap and now, well...I'm still having a crap, but what is that flying cow fucking staring at?!?! HEY! FUCK YOU BUDDY! YOU NEVER SEEN A MAN SHIT HIMSELF WHILE FLYING THROUGH THE AIR ON HIS WAY TO CERTAIN DEATH?!?! WELL TOUCH YOU!"
I've been told not to worry but I was also told the same thing about earthquakes when I was planning a trip to San Francisco to visit a friend.
"Come on out and visit me. I'm your friend. Don't worry about the earthquakes. Earthquakes schmearthquakes I say!" was what she said. Then her car got smushed by a pole a week later during an earthquake and she moved back to Colorado where it snows a lot.
Where I live now I don't have to worry about natural disasters. All I gotta look out for is white boys who think they're black. Cause they like to fight. And I don't. And they like Kid Rock.
Ew.
I'm dry now.