Today I spent five hours unloading a U-Haul in 102 degree weather. I actually had to drink water instead of Diet Coke to avoid dying on the spot. And I discovered that even though I am capable of lifting something, I certainly don’t want to. I see no need to show off my gorilla-like strength. I know that I can lift it, and maybe when I’m alone and feel like lifting it, I will. But right now I’m going to suggest to the muscled 18-year old athlete who was also unloading that he take that box.
Halfway through the day I wondered if Britt would have noticed if I had hired some day laborers from Cheap Moving Companies LLC to wear black shirts, black shorts, and black shoes with red shoelaces and unload the U-Haul in my place. I think that, even given how blonde she is, she would notice. And then she’d probably punch me in the crotch.
In all fairness, I’m a hell of a supervisor. I directed people, suggested which boxes they should carry, made beeping noises as they walked backwards down the ramp, held open doors, and even gave supportive encouragement! I should try to do that from now on – it’s much less exhausting.
So, here it is before 10 PM on a Friday night and I’m sore and my eyes won’t even stay open. Fuck this shit, I’m going to bed.