The move went fine, thanks for asking. The packing, however, sucked.

My God, do I hate packing. Packing, you suck.

I cursed every acquaintance who ever gave me a useless knicknack. I cursed myself for every time I walked into Bath & Body Works and bought yet another unnecessary bottle of scented lotion. I can practically open up my own lotion shop, thank you very much. No more lotion, please! And no more candles! For the love of all that is holy, no more candles!

The packing started off well, but toward the end "miscellaneous" items kept piling up.

Listen to me: you can't throw everything into boxes labeled "miscellaneous." You'll never find anything ever again. When packing, items must be catagorized and boxed accordingly. At some point, however, no matter how efficient and careful you are, a few stray orphan items will remain, mocking you.

At about 10 p.m. Friday night, I reached that point. My head almost exploded when I saw before me an umbrella, a box of pasta, a lint brush, a bottle of lotion and a desk fountain. To what category, I ask you, do these items belong? I was paralyzed with indecision. Of course, I ended up just writing the contents on the outside of the box.

Sigh. So it was way stressful, forces conspired against me, the world railed against me, but I survived.

I am no longer an Orange County resident. Trip out.