Moving or "I wonder how I got that bruise?"

We have moved. There are boxes everywhere and someday we will paint (tomorrow? tonight? soon?). Next weekend/week everything should get settled in. This was the longest move ever!!! I have way, way too much shit, and I thought I had done a good job of throwing things out. Not so much.

We need another key for our apartment, we need gas, we need stuff for the kitty we get tomorrow morning. I don't know where our mailbox is. I cleaned a shower for three hours, and it went from gray and off-white to gleaming white--which was strangely satisfying and super gross all at once.

My show opened, barely, kind of. It was the train wreck of all train wrecks with the 'opening' essentially also functioning as only dress/tech. Somehow it was kind of good (it should have been awful). Someday I will write more about the show.

I have a date tonight, and hopefully once I am settled blogging will be a thing that happens more. Hopefully!

Also insanity seems to be spreading through my office.

Ahh packing. . .

How I freaking hate it. Anyone have any spare moving fairies or house elves I could borrow? I really don't want to do it. I don't think mind moving the boxes, but the packing and the unpacking might just kill me. Plus we have a finite window for movng truckness. Seriously, I can't wait for like two weeks from now to happen because then I will have a new place and a cat and all sorts of things will probably have calmed the fuck down.

Seriously, I offer beer to help move. Seriously.

Oh and we have no TV. No new Heroes, no new How I Met Your Mother. God hates me.