You'd think I would be sympathetic to all of the poor people of Boston struggling to move today because I've been through it. Nope. I'm openly being a dick to everyone moving strictly because I can.
I remember seeing those people from the other side, and just praying that one day I could be them. Those people that knowingly walk their cute ass dog through the rubble of broken couches, desks, and various storage bins with a patronizing smile on their face. I know that look all too well. The "HAH! You should have renewed your lease" look that I've envied for years just waiting for my shot to run amok in the move-in day shitstorm. On a casual walk to the gym today, I was borderline acosted twice and witnessed two situations where the cops were most definitely going to be called. Pure heaven. I even had a bit of a pep in my step listening to some cryptic shit on my Ipod like "Mad World" by Gary Jules. Embracing my role as the villain I've secretly wanted to be.
And maybe, just maybe, this could be the year that I get a fucking dresser for my room. I'm 23 years old and have been living and dying with a couple blue and purple storage bins that I'm pretty sure are used to move dry ice or something. Dressers are KEY tools to becoming an adult.
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Add Commentyou're a dick
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