moving
I'm having some good endorphin-filled fun today, moving a lot of my stuff to my new apartment across the apartment complex. I was passing by one of the dumpsters, and sitting beside it was this luggage chest. It was large. It was heavy. It was old. It was ugly.
It had drawers. One was missing.
If it had been in the actual dumpster, I wouldn't have given it a second glance. However, it was *beside* the dumpster on the pavement.
I would never use it for clothes, but in my mind, I definitely saw myself cleaning it up and painting it to look nice and presentable. I decided to use it to store my art supplies (which have, for the past year, been stowed under my art table in a cluttery conglomerate).
I tried to size up the load of it. It was most definitely quite heavy. I decided that the best thing to do to get it to my apartment was to 'roll' it by putting it on its end, then side, then end, then side. I did this about halfway to my apartment, and then a nice guy came up to me. He offered to help. I definitely accepted.
We got it to my new door, and I thanked him.
My new next-door neighbors were outside, and they offered to let me use their truck to bring over more things. I thanked them, and said that most of the heavy things were going to be taken tomorrow, when my friends were coming with a truck. Today I was mostly focusing on the non-heavy things, but I appreciate the offer, I said.
I would like to thank masculinity in general, for having so many of its members predispositioned to *want* to help a girl with something heavy to carry.
PS: As I was on my own after getting it to my doorstep, I took it into the apartment myself and up the stairs to the second level (I HAVE TWO LEVELS IN MY OWN [still small-ish] APARTMENT; dude, this rocks). I prayed out loud to God as I was rolling this very heavy thing up the narrow stairs to please please not let it fall on top of me while I'm on the stairs so that I fall, and become crushed and summarily killed. I then amended it to include being harmed in any way as well as being killed.
Behold; I am unharmed! \o/
It had drawers. One was missing.
If it had been in the actual dumpster, I wouldn't have given it a second glance. However, it was *beside* the dumpster on the pavement.
I would never use it for clothes, but in my mind, I definitely saw myself cleaning it up and painting it to look nice and presentable. I decided to use it to store my art supplies (which have, for the past year, been stowed under my art table in a cluttery conglomerate).
I tried to size up the load of it. It was most definitely quite heavy. I decided that the best thing to do to get it to my apartment was to 'roll' it by putting it on its end, then side, then end, then side. I did this about halfway to my apartment, and then a nice guy came up to me. He offered to help. I definitely accepted.
We got it to my new door, and I thanked him.
My new next-door neighbors were outside, and they offered to let me use their truck to bring over more things. I thanked them, and said that most of the heavy things were going to be taken tomorrow, when my friends were coming with a truck. Today I was mostly focusing on the non-heavy things, but I appreciate the offer, I said.
I would like to thank masculinity in general, for having so many of its members predispositioned to *want* to help a girl with something heavy to carry.
PS: As I was on my own after getting it to my doorstep, I took it into the apartment myself and up the stairs to the second level (I HAVE TWO LEVELS IN MY OWN [still small-ish] APARTMENT; dude, this rocks). I prayed out loud to God as I was rolling this very heavy thing up the narrow stairs to please please not let it fall on top of me while I'm on the stairs so that I fall, and become crushed and summarily killed. I then amended it to include being harmed in any way as well as being killed.
Behold; I am unharmed! \o/