putting the knit in shizknitz

The older I get, the more I feel 24.  Sometimes I even dress like it, and my apartment looks like one of a 24 year old.  There are subtle changes though such as the birthday party you have, the amount of cake you can eat, and what you do on your special day.  I had a wonderful post-birthday party with some of my most favorite people a few days ago, and bless them, they brought me gifts.  I got home after a long night of eating, drinking (my pharmacist thinks I’m a lush but that’s another story), and singing and laid down on the couch.  T nudged me to open my gifts.  As a kid, I couldn’t wait to tear into the boxes and ribbons and what not.  What I realized was that the wonderful and fun time I had spent with those closest to us was the perfect gift - thus there was no need to tear into anything at all.  That moment of peace and content happiness with T on the couch was one I hadn’t had in awhile. 

On the flip side of things on the crazy side of life, I would like to complain about the craziest arrangement in the world.  Movers.  Yes, I was promised a stress-free move because I wouldn’t have to “lift a finger”.  This has been far from the truth.  Let me first explain the levels of middlemen for your reading pleasure.

I go work at -> Company that is paying for move -> Relocation Specialists -> Agent for Allied Moving Company -> Local Moving Company

Unfortunately, one of the middlemen has provided the worst customer service ever and has been the worst experience EVER just to get this scheduled.  In my hayday, I moved at least once a year.  I never used movers, it was always my family and friends.  Let me tell you, this has been the most stressful move so far.

I love this article.