DAY 8

I've missed a few days because I've been so exhausted lately. So while today is probably technically day 10, we are going to call it day 8... moving day.

It's not even 7 am yet, and for some reason I'm awake. Maybe if I close my eyes I'll fall asleep again. No such luck. It's been this way all night. I think the stress of moving is starting to get to me. I just have to get through this one day. A quick shower, and I'm on my way out the door. First stop, starbucks. There is no way I'm gonna get through this without a carmel frap. My eyes don't want to stay open and my body already hurts.... I don't even want to imagine how I'm gonna feel at this time tomorrow.

I pull into the parking lot of the apartment complex and glance up. I haven't even started yet and the stairs are already taunting me. Before I even start unpacking I want to see how clean this box that I'll be calling home is.


Not bad. The shower could use a good scrubbing, but the carpet is nice and new and the paint is fresh. As much as I just want to lay on the floor for a bit and take a nap, I somehow drag myself down the stairs and grab my first armload. Twenty eight, twenty nine steps later I'm at the top. I drop the clothes that were in my arms on the floor and skip back down to my car. This is going to get old quick.


I finish the first car full in pretty good time. Now if I can only keep up this pace for the rest of the day, I'll be done before the sun goes down. The second trip goes smoothly as well. I think I've strategically brought the easy stuff first. I might be hating that plan later tonight. Around 11 I get a call from a co-worker who is helping with my larger furniture. He is all the help that I'm going to get today, so I want to make sure that I utilize his time well. My arm muscles are already starting to hurt a bit, and I feel like my calves are cramping, but there is no stopping now.


Back south, this time with most of my furniture in tow, I climb out of my car and notice how hot the sun is beating down. Of course it had to be 90 today. Of course I had to be on the third story. Of course there is no elevator. Of course it is a Tuesday and practically everyone I know is at work. Of course I don't have AC!! No use complaining about it now. I guess it could be worse, it could be raining.


We make it up with my dresser and nightstand, but as we are carrying up the tv my arms give out. I want so bad just to chuck the thing over the railing and say screw it, I don't need a tv! My grip is slipping from the sweat on my fingertips and there is a pain shooting through my right shoulder. Is this really worth it?? We round the corner of the second level. "Two thirds of the way there," John says. In my head I'm thinking about how much I wish I had money for a flat screen. As I step up on the first step leading to the third floor, my shin scrapes against the tv. Ouch! This needs to be done, right now. Thirteen more steps to go. Each one feels like it's a mile above the last. I want to just close my eyes and sprint to the top, but that certainly won't work in this case.

Finally we make it. The door clicks open and the tv is on the ground. Thank god! No time for celebration, there are plenty more things sitting down in the car, waiting to be carried up. On the way down the stairs John pokes the top of my neck. It burns. I guess I forgot sunscreen this morning. There is no telling where it is now. I'll just have to bake today and deal with it tomorrow.

After we get my bed upstairs John leaves for Denver and I am once again on my own. I'm so exhausted I just want to collapse on the floor. I wish I could pay someone to do this for me, but I can barely afford the apartment as is, let alone the cost of movers. It's now three pm and I realize I haven't eaten anything all day. My head is pounding and my throat is dry. I run to Subway for a quick bite to eat, but decide to grab it to go so I can unpack while I'm eating. As I start going through the boxes of Kitchen stuff, I quickly realize how much I'm going to need to buy. Living alone is expensive. I'm certainly not all that stoked about it. If money wasn't an issue this would be perfect, but on my meager salary I'm forced to makes a list of things I can live without. A spatula isn't one of them!

By 6 my sister is off work and my eyes are struggling to stay open. Evey step I take is painful. My body is telling me that it is time to stop, but my head says everything needs to get done tonight. We make one trip before I give up. That's it. Whatever is left at the townhouse I can deal with tomorrow. Now it's time to go buy toilet paper and a trash can, so when I wake up tomorrow I can pee!


We browse Bed Bath and Beyond but I'm too tired to think straight. Normally shopping for a new place would be fun. Part of me wishes I had slept better last night, or I had less stuff to carry, or I was in better shape. But wishing is no good. It doesn't fix that fact that I'm exhausted and tomorrow is going to be another day of up, down, up down, up, down. It nine when we decide to go to IHOP for some dinner. I scarf down my strawberry banana pancakes before my sister takes ones bite. Oops, I was supposed to save some for her. I guess I was hungry. Thirty minutes later it's off to Walmart, for the stuff I couldn't find at Bed Bath and Beyond. Finally by 11:30 we are on our way back to her air-conditioned hotel room. All I want is a shower and a pillow. My arms ache, my legs burn, my shoulder and neck sting from the sunburn, and my eyes are so heavy I can't keep them open. I want to make a list of what I need to accomplish tomorrow but I can't formulate a word, or a thought for that matter. Tomorrow will have to wait till tomorrow. I'm going to bed.