The previous month is:
The next month is:
1 June 2001
What do you mean, that apartment is $1800 a month? It’s only got 600 square feet!
What do you mean, you charge me for a storage place with a huge freight elevator but not for having to haul it up to the second floor on delivery?
What do you mean, you have a 10 day delivery window?
Why does moving have to be so damn hard? Are our brains so wired to be habitual that we can’t uproot ourselves without all this trauma?
Or is the delusion that this should somehow be easy?
Yes, I’m making insane plans to throw my possessions into a big yellow truck, drive across the country, and toss them up two flights of stairs. Then I get to unpack.
Yes, I swore I would never move myself again. All I can say is that I swear a lot while moving.
However, and this is the good part, moving requires me to return to Texas: therefore I can return to Chuy’s. I’m sure the five months of east coast cookin’ has left my formerly-fireproofed tongue weak and soft, but I don’t care.
I’ll take a fire in my mouth over moving anyday.