Ow.

Let me first preface this post with the assertion that the vast majority of my move-in process has been great fun, and not at all painful. Brian is back, and we've had a hilarious time moving our crap in and finding furniture and other cool things. We've broken down and disposed of most of the boxess, started sanding the kitchen table and hanging artwork today, and our office is the coziest. I wish I didn't have to ever find a job, so I could spend my days arranging things.

However, there are a few things about moving in that I could live without. One is the absurd amount of stupid stuff that refuses to budge from the living room. Another is the fact that every time I run an errand to a store to get all the "things we need," I inevitably forget several important items. And finally, there are the injuries. It's kind of unbelievable how many times I've yelled "ARRRRGGGGHH!!" during the last week. Here are a few examples:

1. Awhile ago, I (think I) broke my pinky toe, and it pretty much healed. Not much you can do to speed that process. But I banged into Brian's foot and broke it again. Then, the very next day, I ran over that same toe with the shopping cart at Target.

2. I kicked a drill while wearing flip-flops. That was just dumb.

3. Moving the couch up the three flights of stairs was the hardest thing ever. That whole fiaso resulted in bruises on my shoulder from banging it into the hallway wall, an ouchie foot from momentarily setting the couch down on it, and a scraped ankle from kicking the corner of a wall while shimmying the damn thing in the door. But the couch was such a great find that it was worth it.

4. Brian and I decided to use a sander in the kitchen, which was not a good idea and which caused sawdust to gently float in the air and settle on top of everything, and also to clog our lungs and invade our eyes. Awesome.

But, in the end, there is very little visible evidence of my injuries, and very much visible evidence of a happy apartment. So I think it's worth it.