What's Worse than LAX?

There are few things in life I hate more than LAX (a place where I have spent way to much time in the last month).  And one of them is moving. 

The boxes.  The organizing.  The packing. T he paper cuts.  The moving truck.  The lifting.  The bruises.  The unloading.  The re-organizing.  The trips to the dumpster . The trips to recycling.  'Cause I live in Portland.  And get yelled at by strangers if they think they saw me throw cardboard in the dumpster.  Like what happened yesterday.  

But thankfully our friend Elise showed up on Friday evening, with packing materials, and packed up our ENTIRE KITCHEN!  Our ENTIRE KITCHEN!   The worse room in the world to pack up and she did it!  It re-motivated me to get everything else done.

Saturday morning Chad and a couple of his youth group guys showed up to help us move across town, out of our dinky apartment into Alexis fabulous, non-spatially-challenged house.  Yay for not running into walls every time I round a corner anymore.