a pasta machine? yes
a raft? yes
hydrogen peroxide, band-aids, a thermometer? yes
a desk? yes
some pictures? yes
a snow cone maker? yes
a grill? yes
a tent? yes
an exercise step? yes
The answer, essentially, is always yes.
Which is nice for living and terrible for moving. Especially when it's just me and John, who, thankfully, was sweet enough to take off two days of work just to help me move. Over two days, probably 24 full hours were spent moving. We rented my Penske and started loading up. Over and over again. Now, the other day, I had asked my co-workers exactly what caused their arguments with their significant others, thinking how lucky I was that John and I pretty much never argue. And then I found out what makes us argue:
112 degree weather
11 hours of moving
Me buying stupid couches at an estate sale that don't fit in Brad's storage unit.
John telling me what to do too much.
A little house.
A 200 pound dresser that the drawers don't come out.
It wasn't like we were truly mad at each other, but we were definitely ready for the day to be over. It was long and crappy and exhausting.
And then while I went to clinicals the next day for 9 hours, John did the rest of it. I will never ever be able to pay him back for all of this.
Saturday I cleaned the old house. I thought of all the fun memories of that house.
Our first (terrible) reaction to it.
My first living-by-myself experience.
Becoming a nurse.
Watching The Office in Brad's room.
All the Dinner Parties.
Ariana's "walk of shame"
Summer with Bridget
Cupcakes
Blue Bell
Meeting John
The Guest Book
Yes, the house was a little dark. And more than a little brown. But there's a lot of good memories in those walls. And I'll miss it. Good-bye little house.
some pictures? yes
a snow cone maker? yes
a grill? yes
a tent? yes
an exercise step? yes
The answer, essentially, is always yes.
Which is nice for living and terrible for moving. Especially when it's just me and John, who, thankfully, was sweet enough to take off two days of work just to help me move. Over two days, probably 24 full hours were spent moving. We rented my Penske and started loading up. Over and over again. Now, the other day, I had asked my co-workers exactly what caused their arguments with their significant others, thinking how lucky I was that John and I pretty much never argue. And then I found out what makes us argue:
112 degree weather
11 hours of moving
Me buying stupid couches at an estate sale that don't fit in Brad's storage unit.
John telling me what to do too much.
A little house.
A 200 pound dresser that the drawers don't come out.
It wasn't like we were truly mad at each other, but we were definitely ready for the day to be over. It was long and crappy and exhausting.
And then while I went to clinicals the next day for 9 hours, John did the rest of it. I will never ever be able to pay him back for all of this.
Saturday I cleaned the old house. I thought of all the fun memories of that house.
Our first (terrible) reaction to it.
My first living-by-myself experience.
Becoming a nurse.
Watching The Office in Brad's room.
All the Dinner Parties.
Ariana's "walk of shame"
Summer with Bridget
Cupcakes
Blue Bell
Meeting John
The Guest Book
Yes, the house was a little dark. And more than a little brown. But there's a lot of good memories in those walls. And I'll miss it. Good-bye little house.
3 comments:
I love that little house. How could you forget..
HIMYM.
The Pineapple.
Breakfasts.
Swimming.
Time in front of the mirror.
The compost bin.
Sleeping. When I think of your house I always think about how well I slept there.
Oh yeah.. you mentioned Blue Bell...
ok.. yes I guess I could go on forever.
Love you.
Loved that house.
Ha ha ha. I only visited a couple of times, but I remember Ariana's walk of shame.
How can you forget the drunk upstairs falling into your back patio? Now that was a memory maker!
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