Somewhat Inefficient

Ouch. Just when I was starting to feel oh-so-mature and adult-like, and less than 48 hours after moving into my awesome new apartment, I woke up Sunday morning to the worst hangover I've had in at least a year. Dear god.

To be honest, I didn't think an afternoon that started like this...

...would end in a blur that none of us could remember. I suppose that's what happens when you're plied with tequila shots on a day when you forgot to eat anything after breakfast.

Also, unpacking is horrible. Unpacking while hungover? Possibly one of the worst things I've ever attempted in my life.

So Close, Yet So Far

People always say "moving is so hard", but tend to follow it up with some sort of sentiment along the lines of "...but once you're in there, you will be so happy and relieved."

I beg to differ. All of my things have been sitting in my new apartment for over an hour, and all I can do is sigh in resignation at the intimidating thought of how many weeks away I clearly am from unpacking, setting up, and actually LIVING in my new apartment. And for at least the next few days, anyone who could see my apartment would think I was auditioning to be the subject of an episode of Hoarders. Ugh.

Yawn

I'm exhausted. Work is absolutely killing me at the moment, and combined with my social life (which still requires I leave the office at 5pm on the dot, thank you very much) it's not leaving much time for sleep and relaxation.

And of course, I'm moving into my new apartment on Friday. The main question people ask for weeks leading up to a move tends to be "Oh, so have you started packing yet?" For some reason, I get defensive about this question. When you're three weeks away from moving, it just sounds stupid. Why the hell would I have started packing already? Leave me alone.

Of course we are now less than 48 hours from when the movers will show up, and thanks to that defensiveness, with a touch of my usual procrastination, I'm pretty sure the only way this can possibly end now is with me frantically throwing all of my belongings into huge garbage bags while the movers take care of anything that is too big or heavy to fit into one of said garbage bags.

For the record, I still think I'm better than you. Yes, you.