Bed, Bed, Bed

The movers are upstairs right now. I should be up there with them, but I'm kind of afraid of what that would look like.

For now, I'm just sitting around feeling nervous, like the hotel manager in Ghostbusters, helplessly listening to his ballroom get smashed to pieces. My room is going to look nothing like how it did.

There's probably going to be an endtable, or a lamp or something by the end of all of this.

Oh, and the mattress will show up next week, I'm thinking. So my couch surfin' days aren't over, but they are numbered. Monk suggests I take the loveseat into work, which has been a dream of mine for many a moon.