i moved all. fucking. day yesterday. and i'm still not done. two girls and one mom + a queen size bed and a couch and a desk / 3 flights of stairs = pooped morgan and pissy muscles.
and i'm still not done. ugh. so much stuff. why? why?
katie is here a-visitin and it is oh-so-fabulous. i need more friends that are less than a 10 hour drive away. poor lonesome me. she brought a my so-called life dvd, so we cringed at all the awkwardness last night. am i the only person who doesn't mind going on vacation and staying home and watching tv? i hate people who judge me for this. "you could do this at home!" they say. "true, but i couldn't do it with katie." and what do they care anyway? people are so bored.
i really like waking up smushed next to a warm body. it is quite possibly the best feeling ever.
would somebody please send out a memo to all members of the arachnid family and inform them that if they make their presence known, they will be destroyed?