Moving, moving, moving. I HATE moving.
3 days ago - Moved into mum and dad's living room. Wouldn't you just know it. Both the building managers saw us moving my stuff in. They warned us, in a very bitchy manner, that guests are allowed to stay for 2 weeks only. Anymore than that and we would get a notice! So that fucked up my plans of living in here for another 2 months. I'm moving to Van next month.
2 days ago - Spent all day at Jay's packing stuff.
Yesterday - Same as the above. Tore up our entire photo album. Kept 5 of my favourite pictures. Don't think I was ready to completely destroy everything. I still have tons of pics of him but the very first album, the one that meant the most, is gone. Same as 70% of my belongings. Moved most of my-accumulated over the years- stuff to the Salvation Army. What's left is the very basic I couldn't bear to part with. Three suitcases of clothes, and maybe about 6 medium sized boxes of everything else.
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