Here's your stuff...your same old stuff.

My possessions finally arrived yesterday morning. Now all I need is someone to unpack for me. The problem with having your stuff moved is the mental roller coaster. Picture this:
I sit in a very empty apartment all alone. Suddenly my phone rings and echoes throughout and a man with a Greek accent is on the other side saying they'd be there in a couple of minutes. I spring to the door, looking down the streets to greet the couriers. Awesome! I'm going to get my apartment furnished!
So the men with Greek accents start to unload the goods and it quickly becomes apparent that this is the same old stuff that I had back in Chicago. Not the brand new furnishings I was hoping for. That's OK though, I like my stuff so I let them continue. I watch as they unload. I offer them water (1 accepts 1 rejects). I make small talk (they delivered to Arizona and New Mexico as well). I make myself a bagel (I didn't offer them a bagel).
So they finish. My stuff is all over the place and there is an awkward silence in the room. I look at one guy, he looks at me. I look at the other guy, he leaves the room. I look at the first guy again, he hands me a paper to sign and says, "That will be Giraffe spots." Except instead of "Giraffe spots" he said an exorbiant amount of money. So, let me get this straight, I have to pay all of this money for things I already own and have already paid for in the past? That is depressing. So I pay the man...then I tip the guys with Greek accents (To Be Clear: I tip them with money, they already had Greek accents...plus I didn't have any on me). Man, owning stuff is a pain...and expensive...but mostly expensive.

Till next time.

P.S. Yesterday I saw a 40 something guy with a pony tale on roller skates (not roller blades mind you, roller SKATES). That's so California.