Somehow 'find a new apartment' has landed on my annual to-do list ever since moving to Chicago. It's right up there with attempting to figure out New Years Eve plans that will accommodate all my friends, a nasty case of strep throat, renewing my city parking sticker, filling out my income taxes and (sorry, guys) the dreaded trip to the ladies doctor on the list of things that happen once I year whether I like it or not. It's not that I necessarily intend it to be that way, but rather it's just a reality of being twenty-something and living in a big city. Regardless, except for that two-year stint that B-Trice and I did on Dayton (which I only attribute to it's huge closets and the fact that it just so happened to be within stumbling distance of our favorite bar of all, Durkin's), every year we're searching Craigslist, viewing endless dumps, finally finding a place we like, hiring movers, packing up all our shit, trying to negotiate with RCN on a better rate, sweating as we transport box after box and then making sure that we have every little thing put away and every picture hung within 24 hours of move-in. (That last one I blame on my type-A personalty and obsession with organizing.) Then, whew!, we fall in love with our new place. At least for 12 months, until life throws a curve-ball and the cycle starts again.
Well, like clockwork, moving day is approaching again. Only this time, my cousin so rudely scheduled her wedding day on October 2nd. The very day after we move into our new place! And not only that, but she had the audacity to fall in love with a guy from Neenah, Wisconsin. Not somewhere convenient for me like Chicago. So, yes, I am very very happy for my cousin and her approaching life of wedded bliss. But at the moment, I'm just feel cranky because I have to drive up to meet my family in Milwaukee on Friday night so that we can make it to Neenah in time for all the festivities on Saturday. How in the world am I supposed to concentrate during the vows and dance the night away during the reception when all I'm going to be thinking about are all the boxes that are still fully packed up? All of the walls that are still bare? All of the things I could be putting away? Arrgggghh.
Life is so cruel, isn't it?