The Move From Hell (Or Rather, The Move To Hell?)

While I’ve historically had a strong womanist constitution, I now concede that there are two things that a woman should never attempt without a husband: moving and getting a puppy

Why?

Because there are two things that men have been selectively evolved to understand better than women – lifting stuff up and pooping.

The move that I had anticipated completing in two days is almost halfway finished at the end of Day 3.  Having been shafted by the movers, I am doing a good deal of moving things around myself.  How the hell was I supposed to know that a flat screen TV and its accompanying TV stand weighed in at a collective 300 lbs?  Picture a chihuahua with an afro and really cute shoes pulling a Buick.

No really, picture it – because in the midst of trying to get the new place together, my new puppy is trying to help by leaving me little housewarming gifts every unattended chance she gets.   Then she barks to show me as if she had carefully and proudly selected these “gifts” from my personal home registry at Target.

Anywho, I said all that to say, it’s gonna be another day or two, folks.  I really need to get settled in before my new neighbor realizes he’s apparently been “registered at Target” as well.  Good ole’ Target, delivers right at your door.

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4 thoughts on “The Move From Hell (Or Rather, The Move To Hell?)

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