Nov. 29 was the worst day of my life

Moving is exciting and scary and there are a lot of emotions that come along with it. Nov. 29 was the longest day of my life and almost the worst day of my life (right behind the day Hostess went out of business slash took a break slash broke my heart).
I’m not going to bore you with intro banter. Read below to catch a glimpse into my nightmare.
Don’t always believe apartment complexes
If an apartment complex tells you to move in at 10 a.m. Nov. 29, don’t jump to any conclusions. They might have just put that time and date on a piece of paper for the looks of it all. Upon arriving at the apartment complex at 10 a.m. Nov. 29, the leasing office was closed. After five voicemails, 25 phone calls, six text messages, and a lot of prayer between Kassidy Ketron and I, we still got nowhere. But sometimes you just need to call in the big guns (Brittney Skinner) to enlist some help.
God bless Brittney Skinner
God bless her. While she was helping me move in (we convinced a maintenance men to give us keys), we accidentally saw the property manager walking back to her apartment. Brittney verbally abused her like she was a journalist questioning O.J. Simpson. She was mean. The property manager was scared. I was scared. Brittney mentally and emotionally knocked her down until she couldn’t get back up and handed over what we needed and took some money off our first month’s rent.
my sis to property manager.
Boys will do just about anything for beer and God bless them
I want to thank Michael, Tyler, Derek, and Joseph for helping us move. They might not be characters from the Bible, but God still blessed them. They lifted and moved and didn’t even complain and I love them for that. They were rewarded with beer because boys like beer and this is a fact.
God bless Brittney Skinner (again)
She’s either really mean or really nice and I got to see both sides of her on moving day. While the boys and I were moving all of Kassidy’s stuff, Brittney was setting up my room. It might have been because she knows I can’t decorate. It might have been because she’s a control freak. It might have been because she didn’t want to do any heavy lifting. Or I guess it just could have been that she’s really effing nice. Whatever it was, I’m all unpacked and Kassidy is still unpacking while I write this blog.
Prayers for Paige
I just need everyone’s prayers right now. Upon plugging in my 20-year-old TV and straightening its antennas, I found out that I get absolutely no channels. No channel 4. No channel 5. That means no Wendy Williams. No Jimmy Fallon. No Seth Meyers. That means I will be alone with my thoughts and this blog until I can figure something out. It’s just tough. I just need privacy. I need your thoughts. #PrayersForPaige
The first grocery trip
There’s nothing like a new Target. It smells different. The paper towels aren’t by the groceries. There isn’t a dorm section so I can buy a cheap mirror. It’s also a completely different demographic than my Target in Garland. It’s a bunch of white people in jogging shoes and spandex pants who don’t buy Hostess donuts and like to make you feel bad about it. There’s also a cop standing by the exit to make sure no one steals anything and I’m like, Oh????? All these rich Uptown people need to steal some toilet paper????? K. It’s very, very, very tragic and I felt out of place.
people in uptown’s target while grocery shopping.
The first shower
It’s scary. You don’t know what to expect. Figuring out all of the knobs and which way goes which way is terrifying. I’m naked and afraid. And you never know which one is making it hot because it takes forever to heat up. So I stood there for 3 minutes waiting for the water to get hot but it never did because it was on cold. And then the big boom. When I made it go from bath to shower. This is scarier than opening a can of cinnamon rolls. I shouted. I might have cussed, I don’t remember.
The water was aggressive. And hard. And forceful. It wasn’t delicate like I am. It said BAM, I’M HERE TO CLEAN and I was scared. Frightened even.
Then when it came time to turn off the shower, it was like the beginning all over again. I didn’t know which way to turn the knobs. I actually thought for sure I had broken a knob and was never going to get it fixed. Well this is it, I thought. I’m never going to get the water to shut off and it’s going to overflow and water will leak into our downstairs neighbor’s apartment and is this why we need renters insurance and why does this day keep getting worse and do I have enough towels to clean this up and if I go to Target now, I can buy a bunch of paper towels to soak it all up and make it back in time before it’s completely overflown. I managed to turn it off.
The first night
I was bored. We didn’t have TV or Internet. I wrote a little and then I was bored again. I crawled into Kassidy’s bed with her dog. We laughed about the day and how tragic it all was. We told each other about the voicemails we left the apartment complex. We cringed but justified it with the fact that we were angry. Kassidy and Winston eventually fell asleep and one of them started snoring. I’ll let you do the concluding about which one it was. I snuck out of the room and headed to my bed. The wall on my bedroom is by the outside and you can pretty much here anything and everything. Including a couple fighting at 3 a.m.
“That’s not the point. The point is that you did.” – a great first line to a murder mystery novel I’ll eventually write
I had to go to Starbucks to post this blog because we don’t have WiFi yet. Tragic, I tell you. Tragic.

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