I started writing this Thursday night while I was sitting on the side of the highway at 3am... and then forgot to publish it until now. Oops. Whatever.
Today started off a little rough. I stayed out past my bed time last night and was definitely draggin' a little... 3 hrs just doesn't do it for me anymore. I made it through the day. Denver helped me get the last big furniture piece out of the apartment. Progress was made. I went to both offices. Made it to a friend's birthday dinner. Then... I thought it was a good idea to go to a midnight writer's round at the Hard Rock. So I'm heading home at 2am to begin with. I'm rolling down the highway, and all of a sudden we all stop. All four lanes. I can't see anything, but the fact that people are running down the side of the highway and sitting on the hoods of their cars doesn't bode well for my quick return home.
So I sat. And text messaged. And Facebooked. And started blogging on my phone. And seethed and plotted against the idiot teenagers that were running between the cars banging on people's hoods. Mid blog, I see cars moving. Slowly. 2am had turned into 3am before we saw any movement. I made it home at 3:30am. And found out that our callbox was broken. I couldn't get into my own complex for 25 minutes.
Then, because I'm an idiot, I thought packing would be a great idea. Just load up the car one more time.
FAIL. The dog had been inside all day and proceeded to run in circles around the complex and howl like some sort of banshee. I cut myself on the picture I broke. I woke up my poor roommate sometime around 4am. However, the car is now loaded. All that is left are my clothes and dishes, and I am officially done with this apartment.
For now, I'm sitting on the couch running late for work, because I feel like a truck rolled over me.