"Dolly, good. Hernia, bad."

Where to start. How about I hurt like a mutha. And can I just remark that I am a moving truck driving goddess? I didn't get lost in Bed Stuy or hit anything.

Monday

It took two days to move. Two. This was not in the original plan.

Halloween was not an auspicious day to move on. Things started out badly when the truck was not ready on time and when we finally did get the truck -- 11 am -- the morning was nearly wasted. Jane, our two recruits, and myself spent most of Halloween just loading up the 15 foot truck -- something that took six hours. And in the middle of all this, Fala was getting ready for her big move to England.

By the time we got to the new apartment, it was 6 pm and dark. Me, Jane, and our two helpers were so tired that we voted on cutting our losses, parking the truck, paying for another day rental, and trying to finish in the morning. While our helpers left for Connecticut, Jane and I drove the truck back to the Bushwick, parked, and had some much need food and beer at the old pub.

Tuesday

We woke up early, took the subway to Bushwick, and picked up the truck. Good news was that the truck was still there. The back had the security equivalent of a high school gym lock, but thankfully that was enough to protect our belongings. Bad news was that some lovely soul had tagged our truck with graffiti. Classy.

We were back in Prospect-Leffert's Garden by 9 am. It took Jane and I six hours to unload the truck and get everything up to the second floor. By 4 pm I wanted to die. Now if only I could find my bed linens.

Small note about my new home. There's an abundance of doors and phone jacks, but a lack of electrical outlets. Bizarre. Now who wants to visit me for my birthday weekend? Space is limited.

* Edit: I forgot to mention that in the middle of this, I got a phone call telling me that I got tickets to the Daily Show for February 1st.