But clearly, their boxes are empty and they're not actually moving. Instead, this is a much better representation of my moving process:
Or maybe this:
I try to not be a gender stereotype and do my share of heavy lifting, but the fact of the matter is that, regardless of my gender, I suck at lifting and I'm fairly physically weak. I'm just going to have to be ok with that. Bleh. Also, doesn't moving, like other stressful situations, just bring out the absolute worst in everyone? That means that my order/structure driven self becomes pretty intolerable. Bleh again.
Oh well. It'll be over soon. Tonight's the last night we are staying in the old place. I'm sure unpacking will take a bit more time than I'll have free this weekend, but hopefully by next weekend I will feel really settled and at home. Because I do NOT do well with chaos and transition.
So long as this doesn't happen to me though, I should be fine:
I mean, if I arrive at my new place and a baby pops out of one of my boxes (the one I marked with a smiley, obviously) I'm not going to be as happy as the peeps here. Good thing I didn't mark any boxes with a smiley.