Now I remember why I wanted a two-bedroom last year

I am tired and sore and irritable and all my shit is still in boxes, grouped in little islands in the new apartment. We got started at 9 a.m. on Sunday and brought the last box up at 9 p.m. last night (that's Monday for those of you playing along at home).

I was supposed to have internet by now but the cable guy came out and couldn't hook it up because the cable box at the complex (which is tiny -- 18 or so units in all) was "the worst box [he had] ever seen," thanks to the millions of random, unlabeled wires, some of them cut, none of which connect to my apartment. So Time Warner has to come out Wendesday morning and do some rewiring work.

Other than that, and the fact that my new cell phone is orbiting around town but can't get to me because the buzzer to my apartment doesn't work and I can't spend all day looking out the window to catch the FedEx man, things are good. I love the apartment, and will love it more once I get all my stuff arranged and put away (provided there's room for it all, which I'm suddenly beginning to doubt). I love the location. It suits me.

Longer recap later, with pictures eventually; I have real work to do. The kind I get paid for.