-The 'moving company' we hired off of Craig's List (which can be more accurately described as two angry Russian guys with a truck) walk out on us the morning of the move. The inciting incident? I dared to question the line in the contract stipulating that I start paying them a half-hour before they arrived and continue paying them a half-hour after the move is complete. Crazy me.
-While every room in our new apartment has a cable and internet jack, I'm told by the building's developer that he has no idea what those jacks are connected to. What ensues, between panicked sprints to Starbucks to use their wifi for work emergencies, is a deeply humbling, two-week long marathon of phone calls and visitations from, first, Direct TV, and then Time Warner. My life was shortened by several years on this one.
-My back, citing irreconcilable differences with my body, has informed my brain that it no longer wants to be associated with us. Refusing to grant the divorce it seeks, I have been living with nearly constant pain from my tightly clenched, angry-as-hell lower back. I tip-toe around like a pregnant geriatric in order to avoid tweaking it again. (screw you back, I'll never let you go!).
My list of complaints shall end there but suffice it to say that I could go on. A long ways on. For example, my broken iPhone replaced with a refurbished and equally broken iPhone, the Post Office unable to deliver my mail for two weeks and counting because they can't get into the building, the stress-induced psoriasis developing on my left eyelid... dear God, I can't stop!
The fact that I'm even writing here, however, is evidence that things are maybe returning to some kind of normal state. Ahh, how I've missed normal.
I'll end with a few photos of Mylo dressed as a lion for Halloween.
