Moving

Once there was a man who when his girlfriend was moving out had to wait another week because the elevator broke.

Then the truck broke down.

SRSLY.  WTF.   For a while there we thought maybe this move wouldn’t happen, but after about 6 hours the truck magically appeared.

Anyway, Mike and I had already run away to the Paddlewheeler Pub during Fraser Fest and people watched and ate snax and drank beer.  We went back to his place and met up with the ex and it was reasonably civilized (I left the room).

I have absolutely no tolerance for fun anymore, I came home and collapsed. Now it’s three in the morning and I’m awake.  Heavy sigh.

Don’t expect much out of me in the next little while.  I’m axtually gonna read Piketty’s Capital in the 21st C because apparently you’re nobody until you do. It’s a doorstop.