| This is how it felt anyway.|
I'm the dude in the back.
I just spent the last three days on an epic, manic packing spree and I don't think I have ever hauled as many boxes in my life before as I hauled today. I think we only had four each, but it felt like I carried gazillions of boxes. Probably because of all of the flights of stairs in my dorm. If you count lifting a box, carrying it a certain (usually vast) distance, then putting it down again as "one Haul", my rough estimate of Boxes Hauled becomes nearly accurate. Luckily my wonderful roommate was there to hold the other end of all them.
Let me also add that these were not your garden variety moving boxes. Oh, no. They were plastic tubs of gigantic proportions.
You see, apparently you can't buy moving boxes in the Midwest they way you can on the West Coast. We, of course, went to Walmart first looking to get some of your average moving box and were told they could save cereal boxes for us if that is what we wanted. That was not what we wanted so we went to an actual hardware store. When we asked the man in the hardware store if he sold moving boxes he looked at us like we'd just asked him for a couple of sheets printer paper.
"Um . . . I guess I could check in the back . . . there might be some . . . somewhere. Someone might have some. Give me a second to ask."
The man returned with two small boxes suitable for mailing skimpy Christmas presents to relatives you don't like and never see in.
We returned to Walmart and bought four, huge thirty-five gallon plastic tubs each. My roommate and I rode back to the dorm in the back of a friend's car with twelve tubs jammed into our laps.
Then the other day we had to start filling them up with the stuff we wanted to store over the Summer. Our dorm allows you to store your stuff in the basement for free so long as you don't own more than four boxes worth of stuff. This was a problem, because I wanted to store basically everything and I own decidedly more than four thirty-five gallon tubs of stuff.
My personal motto became something along the lines of: "Throw it overboard."
After three continuous days of packing and hauling and pinched fingers and mild, stifled cursing we locked our dorm room door and now I ache.
Then it began to pour and my phone battery died.
And, oh yeah, now it's officially Summer.