Last week I moved into my new place. The move itself actually went really well and took just about two hours. But for whatever reason, it felt like the most stressful day ever. Boxes everywhere, three guys that couldn't care less about my belongings running around my apartment, a cat that was destroying his just purchased carrier, and a new landlord that was basically telling me I could move in whenever HE felt like it. It seems much worse than it was but everything went off without a hitch and only one small thing was broken. The highlight of the move was certainly the mover covered in self-done tattoos of naked women telling me I was really a Chicagoan because I've had a can of Old Style before.