After all is said and done, I feel like I’m hungover. Within the time span of about fourteen hours, I relocated and reestablished my life into its new surroundings. It was a multistage feat that went off without any major headaches or injury. My new bed didn’t quite fit into my brother’s Envoy like I thought it would, and I thank the laws of physics for allowing its voyage home to be a successful one, on the roof none the less. And if my godson, Ben, had not been there, I do not know who would have opened the door. Dad helped out with the hauling and sweating as well. Mom likes the place. I’m loving it, but probably not nearly as much as my new bed.
Everything I have is unpacked, and I’m pretty much set as far as getting settled in goes. Sure, you can say that my brain kicked into efficiency mode and there was no sleeping until Brooklyn. Once the mood hits me, I’m not stopping until it’s done. Thing is, I really don’t own a lot of things. That all looks to change within the near future, but minimal is not a horrible thing. Right now, I just need a couch. Once that happens, I’ll be very content.
I got about nine hours of sleep last night. A solid nine, mind you. I really, really like my new bed.