So basically our apartment is beginning to look like a natural disaster.
Boxes everywhere; some filled, some empty. Our living room, which I did not take a picture of, is piled with yard sale stuff. It's amazing how much junk a couple of people can accumulate in only 3 years. The sad thing is that most of our yard sale stuff is junk we came here with that never moved. I know because there was 3 years worth of dust on top of some of this junk. But what's junk to me is someone else's good deal! (Lets hope) Oh, and disregard the baby bedding. It doesnt mean anything. Seriously! Geez.
This is the carpet stain from our old decrepit printer that leaked ink all over the floor while we were tagging it for the yard sale. Thanks for costing us our apartment deposit you stinky old printer. With only 3 more weeks worth of time here. Geez.
And my poor toe got smushed moving my bulky/awkward scrapbook storage case. Why is it always the smallest injuries that hurt the most? Like papercuts! And my nice new self-painted pedicure is ruined. Geez.
I'm so done with this moving mumbo-jumbo.