Just like I know roommates, I also know moving. They're connected I guess. I come from a family of movers. That I remember, I have moved 18 times. The place I moved from this weekend is the place I have lived the longest, second only to the house my parents still live in (which I lived in for 6 years). This move has been particularly strenuous. It has resulted in a poop-load of boxes, a much need thinning out of my wardrobe, several bags of trash, some decent (and not so decent) furniture left on the curb, heaps of reflection on the past 4 years, and a rather heated telephone fight with my best friend (sorry, love). It is amazing to think how much stuff--physical and emotional--one building can hold. Now I'm here in the new digs. I heart my new apartment. My new roommate is great. Yea new apartment!
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