"I like the way you move...

ba dumm bum."

After "helping" a friend move yesterday, I have decided that if English doesn't work out I can become a furniture mover. Not because of my ability to lift heavy things, pack things into Rubbermade totes, or clean ovens, but because of the rewards one gets for this. I moved a couch, I got a free beer. I like this arrangement.

However, after the eleventy-billionth trip up to his third floor apartment I realized I am not looking forward to moving 2 months from yesterday. Finding all of the stupid little things that hadn't made it into the totes was frustrating as I kept trekking back to find more Wal-Mart bags to stash things in. I am 22 years old, and should not have acquired that much stuff while living in my current abode. But I can guarantee I did. My grandmother is what some lovingly refer to as a "packrat" (or Grandma with butt-loads) and, despite my attempts to ward off this gene, it is sometimes inherent. I am curious to find out if moving will help me purge much of the stuff I have accumulated, or if it will hone my reorganization abilities when I move into the new place and have to find a place for it all. I guess we will find out in July!

And, whereas I am excited (and scared) to move into my own place, I know that it will be hard leaving my current one. Locking Kris' door for the last time last night was kind of bittersweet--we have all had some good times there. As we drove away he made a comment somewhere along the lines of "I'm really going to miss this place." Heck, I'm going to miss his place, so I can only imagine how much I'll miss where I live now and who I live with now. A majority of my fun college times have been had behind door #8...I guess I am just a sentimental type of girl.

Which is probably why I won't start packing up all the little things until mere hours before "the moving company" (read friends and parents) come to haul my stuff to the new apartment. It'll make it more of a game that way! Man, we have a lot of games to move too....