Sweet Holy Jesus

Sweet Holy Jesus, moving can lick my nuts. It sucks. Sucks sucks, and sucks some more. Everything hurts. Driving around in that huge truck sucked. Here's a story.

So, it's a 40 foot U-Haul, and I drive it at a level that only a few people would call competent. I'm scared to death to even try reversing. So, I had Alan stand outside and yell directions to me as I did exactly what he told me to do. Part of this contract I signed says that I have to return it with a full tank of gas, so the entire day I'm dreading the trip to the gas station, where I know I'll need to maneuver it around tight quarters that could explode if I mess up. It's a diesel, of course, so we need to wait for the diesel pump to open up. After blocking traffic waiting for a car to move to open up the pump for about 5 minutes, I pull around the station to line myself up with the diesel pump. By the time I get there, a minivan has stolen my spot. I made Alan ask the guy to move before he started pumping his gas. He complied, but he looked pissed off while moving.

I eventually got the hang of the thing, right when it was time to return it. I actually enjoyed the drive back to the U-Haul.

Now I'm tired, and I can tell by the because the inside of my eyelids are burning a little bit. But, I have to pack up my little stuff into big boxes to move tomorrow. Plus, I'm thinking of going to Hoops tonight. I'm tired, but shit, I needs me my social interaction.