Saying "Never" is the kiss of death in that if I say it, I always regret it. I usually end up eating those words. In this case, I can safely say, "I'M NEVER MOVING AGAIN. EVER!" As if life isn't stressful enough, throw in 4 moves in 2 months, and you obviously must be mad.
My new apartment is nice, but smaller than the previous one, so needless to say, too much furniture is too much. Having a "Kadzillion" boxes of books doesn't help any. Where in the world did I get all of these? My second bedroom is completely full. What to do? What to do?
Moving seems to be an event that I depend on friends and relatives to help with, when they can. One relative, who I can't mention, will donate money to get someone else to help. One son is in DC. One working. One who said, "You're moving?" Julie and Vicki have helped me move so many times, I can't even count that high.
I've come to the conclusion, that if you want to know who your friends really are, tell them you're moving. God willing, I will never have to say that again.
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