we did it! we moved in together! and what a fucking process it was, sheesh. i don't ever want to move again. you look around and think "i don't have that much stuff" and multiple people tell you the same thing. then you start packing it and realize you need way more boxes than you originally thought. then you have to walk it to the car, drive it across town, and carry it up a flight of stairs, and have to repeat that a few times until you get to the heavy or bulky stuff like mattresses and chairs and bikes and desks and think "i have too much fucking stuff!" then realize you have to help your boyfriend move HIS stuff and for a split second you consider texting him and say that you've changed your mind and that you no longer want to move in together but since my stuff is already here and some of yours also so I'll pay you for your stuff even though i don't want it unless you wanna come get it yourself cause there's no way in bloody hell I'm moving your stuff for you because that was the problem to begin with! of course you do no such thing, and you just help him cause he helped you and you're not a selfish bitch. but you still wonder every 20 minutes or so if he would even notice if you "lost" a box of his until you realize that you'd have to trash it in your work dumpster since both your and his trash cans are full of discarded stuff, which requires you to drive to work which is across town and pick up the box and raise it over your shoulders to tip into the dumpster and you think again about that original scenario but again you don't because you're no bitch.
at night, even though you're exhausted and unsatisfied from dinner of your 3rd straight day of the pizza from days ago, you can't sleep because you're stressing about the stuff you still haven't moved yet and now you're RUNNING OUT OF TIME.
and so it goes. physically tiring days and mentally tiring nights, until you're FINALLY done moving in! but your, OUR, apartment is a fucking mess and you feel a bit resentful of each other for all the stuff they made you move or throw away and wonder why you ever thought this was a good idea, moving in together.
then you immediately leave to China for a week and a half and are actually a little relieved you can finally decompress and don't have to deal with the settling in. until he tells you he bought a shelf and a clothes rack and you get a little worried he's bought something ugly but it'll be too late to say no to when you're finally home again, but also very guilty you left him to clean and settle in so of course he's entitled to buy things you hate and you wonder how long you have to fake being accommodating and grateful before you can be your petty self and belatedly veto that table or chair or whatever.
