Last week after I boarded one of 3 flying sewer pipes East, my dad hustled the rest of my existence (my boxes) down to UPS. Unfortunately not everything I needed (and also wanted, let's not forget that...I am an indecisive female here) could find its way into 2 checked bags, a purse, and a lesbian daypack. And to think I downsized immensely before this shift in time zones.
Well as of 7:43am this morning, my stuff is "out for delivery." Well why haven't you shown up already? I want you. I need you. I only have 2 pairs of shoes here. Some beat-up sneakers and a cute pair of Clarks ballet flats. Two extremes. I need the rest of what I'll temporarily call my life.
Assuming they stop delivering at 5:00pm or so, that leaves a little over 2 hours for me to continue my pacing, my incessant cleaning, my frantically trying to find new blogs to stalk to kill the time. Madness, I tell you.
Come on Fairy UPS Godmother. What if I click my pink, fuzzy slipper'd heels 3 times?
Okay, okay, I'll start the laundry. It's starting to pile up.
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