Well, the big day has come and gone, and it was a pain in my ass, as expected.  Friday night, I ended up getting pretty sick, and was up all night puking.  Blech.

I will say that I am very fortunate to have some awesome people who came to help out with the move.  Because I was totally worthless.  I can admit that.  I pretty much laid on a couch or wandered around trying to clean things that were already mostly clean.  I felt terrible.

The guys were incredibly efficient and got everything out of the house within about an hour.  Only casualty is my awesome desk literally fell apart while they were moving it.  It was very sad, because I loved that desk.  Now I need to buy another one.  Blah.  Took me 4 hours to put that thing together!

 

RIP Awesome Desk

 

The poor knight felt so horrible about the whole thing.  I will miss my desk, until I can buy another one.  Blah.

The best part about moving out of my place is that I know who is moving in after me.  My best friend, Jeff, is moving into my old place.  I’m glad that he will be able to enjoy it.  I know I loved living there.

Here is the biggest issue with moving… There isn’t a “my place” anymore.  Oh, don’t misunderstand – I love the knight and am happy to start our life together.  But, this place was my first place being completely on my own.  In college, I had my own apartment, but my dad paid for it.  When I was married, I paid for everything, but someone else was there trashing the place.  This was my first opportunity to live on my own and by myself.  It was a great place to do that.  Jeff lived across the courtyard, so there was always somewhere nearby.  It was only 10 minutes from work.  And there was an awesome taco truck at the bar across the street.  Oooh and only 1 1/2 blocks from The Chocolate Bar and Candylicious.  Mmmmm candy…

So, I am thrilled to start my new life, but there is also a bit of sadness, watching my single life come to an end.  Not because I wanted to be single.  I never wanted that.  But because it is the end of “mine” vs. “yours” and the beginning of “ours.”

So, farewell, to my crazy Melrose Place-type apartment.  It was a good run.  I will NOT miss the happy humpers upstairs, or the all night summer pool parties outside my front door.  I also won’t miss the douche that couldn’t possible stay within the lines of his parking space, causing me to crawl into the passenger side of my car like a cat burglar.  Or perhaps I looked a bit more like the Hamburglar.  Whatever.

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