Sometimes, I don’t know about me. I ended up going to Target around 9:45 last night, which was probably not the best idea.
In my exhaustion, I left a bag there; coincidentally, it was the bag that contained vital showering materials so that in the morning I could feel like a human.
I passed out on my couch amidst the mess and when my alarm went off at 5am this morning, I became aware of two things:
1. I could not move. I was insanely sore.
2. Even if I could have gotten up, nothing was unpacked. Finding anything to wear – let alone run in – was a major issue.
Nevertheless, I got up at 6 to start unpacking. In these 12 hours, I’ve left my apartment three times. I’ve unpacked one box and one bin. I’ve put up my shower curtain.
This, ladies and gents, is what I like to call “progress.”