Murphy Hates Me
Everything that could go wrong, did. Not only did it rain on the day of the move, I hadn’t finished packing. From Friday morning to Saturday morning, I packed. Yes, that’s right. 24 hours straight. No sleep. The moving guys were at least an hour late on Saturday morning, too, and only two of them were sent—not three. The cat man, who arranged the move for me, had told them 9 pieces of furniture and 60 boxes. Naturally, he underestimated….