Grinding my teeth....

So there I was... surrounded.... by boxes and moving equipment and it occurs to me: I hate this.

Now, if you know me, you know I move around pretty consistently every year or two, so it would seem that this would be something I would at least get used to and not hate with a passion... nope (shaking head), I still loathe it. I hate moving other people's stuff MORE than my own because I can't even through away their shit. (Though I love my sister dearly - she's the one I helped move - it's a personal thing and has nothing to do with her... love you len.)

It's the putting stuff in boxes, trying to play tetris with ceramics, and finding shit that I would totally throw away and I CANNOT because it's not mine... I mean you learn alot about people when you move them....

1) When was the last time they went through their freezer.
2) How many clothes they REALLY have (shoes included)
3) What sentimental or "important" documents really need to be kept... (this reminds me of an old roommate who kept all paperwork for like 5 years... for no reason, just in case)
4) Fetishes

DO NOT get me started on people with knick knacks... I FREAKIN HATE those... I want to grab all of them and break and burn them in the backyard while I chant naked to the GODS of broken precious moment dolls.

Me? well, I know I have annoying habits... I keep notebooks. Empty ones, and pretty paper... or just lined paper. I DON'T KNOW WHY. I think deep down if the apocalypse came, I would have all the paper in the world and that gives me INFINITE POWER!!! or I just like paper... who knows? I try throwing it away. I stare at it and put it in the waste basket, but I'm like, that is such a waste... I could USE that (which all hoarders say I'm sure).

I'm a cookbook pack rat.I love them, to a point of obsession. I like looking at food... I don't need to cook it to know that it is delicious, (not that I would because I don't cook THAT often...) I just need to see it, and know that somewhere in the world, someone made this and died of joy. If by chance I need a recipe for eel, I got it... why use the internet when I can go through 25 cookbooks (WITH PICTURES!) to find it.

Ok, I'll move on because I'm thinking about all the moving and I'm started to want to go on a rampage and get arrested in the backyard.

Anyway, after all the moving this weekend, it felt good to just get it over with. The unpacking doesn't really bother me, it's like christmas with your own stuff. :) My sister, bro-in-law and me head out and I lost/got my phone stolen at a gas station in Naples.

I HATE loosing stuff. I HATE HATE HATE people that steal stuff... and my phone is old. I mean I've had it longer than my dog. Yes, it's old, I get it... I'm an old person that gets cranky about technology, "hey woodchucks, stop chuckin' my wood" but I don't NEED a lot of stuff on my phone. I call and text. That's it.

NOW WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD STEAL MY PHONE? Children's play phones have more options on their phones than mine. I know, I've played with them. I mean, it doesn't even have cool stuff like awesome games. I might have snake. WHO IS SO DESPERATE FOR A PHONE THAT THEY WOULD STEAL MINE? You can get a nicer phone for $.97 at WALMART with a two year activation fee. (I know, I looked.) This is like moving, it's stupid that I kept it, but it was mine, and it had EXTREME EMOTIONAL VALUE. I'm still kinda ticked about that. The ONE pciture of my dog was PRICELESS... I will NEVER get it back... and for that stranger that stole my phone instead of returning it to the front counter, I hope you trip and break your nose so that Michael Jackson will make fun of you, or get herpes.

Which leads me to the last thing I HATE that this weekend caused. I realized I need another job because with all this moving and needing to replace phones... it all costs money...

Cover letters. I hate cover letters more than a mayo based sauce (I'm not going to say mayo because I hate that more but a mayo based sauce is equally as distasteful). I really sit there trying to think of ways to say I deserve this job and this is what I come up with:

Dear Employer,

I'm awesome.

Respectfully amazing,

me.

That's all they want to hear anyway. or:

Dear The Man,

I can do this job better than most. Pay me a lot.

Thank me,

me.

It's like the cover letter dance is worse than the first date dance because, you have to put everything out there but then what surprises do you have to come back with. Personally, I do better with interviews (on occasion, I've had the "I really should keep my mouth shut" moments.) I need to make people laugh, that's just my thing... But seriously, its as bad as eHarmony except you DON'T get a face shot.

Grrr... this blog sucks. I know because I just got charged by a fat dachshund who's face looks at me with me great disappointment. She almost knocked me off my chair.