I am now in my new place... right next door to my old place.
If you will recall my previous post I detailed the icy stairs of death. 3 Months and the Stairs decide to kick me in the butt on the way out.
As I'm moving (with my stuff in garbage bags) I think I'm doing pretty well. Finally its time for my last load. I have all of my non-perishable food in 3 boxes 2 of them in the biggest one.
I get to the second stair and within seconds I'm on the bottom stair on my ass with groceries all around me. It was a pretty impressive fall. And even more impressive is that fact that I'm not hurt. I survived it relatively unscathed. I'm bruised and I lost an entire box of whole wheat spaghetini. And I can't sue the bastards.
Apparently the fall rattled my brain and has affected my ability to write. Better posts later.
1 comment:
Maybe your new house is haunted, and the ghosts of gold rushes past have taken their due in ass and spaghetini.
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