Moving is Lame

I finally get organized, everything finally has a spot, out of the way where I know where to find it and then put it back when I am done (a fancy new adult idea), the walls are decorated with posters and cut outs and calendars, (yes more than one calendar and yes 90 % of all of that is Harry Potter). With everything in its place I finally had a system down, methods to my madnesses. It only took me a year.

Then I decide to move. Last night I finished getting all of my stuff-and when I move I am reminded just how much stuff I really have once it's all been removed from its place, out of sight, out of mind-got it all into my new room, finished cleaning my old apartment and turned on Criminal Minds to watch while I put my new room to rights. Problem is, I didn't get done and to my new place until 11 pm, my bedtime, though I rarely make it to bed that early. I figured I could at least go to bed at 12. Nope. Too much stuff. I was decently organized during this move, but last night I was sick of it all and just stuff whatever I could wherever I could. Which meant I couldn't find my phone charger. I was too tired to continue once I found my charger and just got out the next day's necessities, then went to bed. Now I am at work thinking of all the boxes I have to go through, all my stuff I have to organize, where I need to put it all, what I need to buy to get organized. I wish I had enough money to get my own place, because I would definitely be able to fill it all up with my stuff. But then I would have to move again and I would rather not move for a while.

Yesterday I worked from 9-5, then stood in line at Comcast until 6:15 to return the internet modem, packed and moved stuff from 6:30-7:30, went to the gym until 8:30, then packed and cleaned and moved until 1 am. I would write more, but I am too tired, and I must save my energy to talk to doctors on the phone.