Today, with the help of generous and attentive friends and copious electrolytes, I managed to stick it to those same friends by powering through my seemingly counterproductive (and definitely tedious) method of finally going through all my shit.
Step 1: put lots of things on one surface
Step 2: sort those things into piles
Step 3: move those piles to a different surface or box
Step 4: repeat steps 1 & 2
Step 5: match those piles with existing piles and move the remaining piles to a different surface
Which to me seems like very focused logic, but appears to be a wild mess that strikes anxiety into all who see it. Which seems fair given all that I am purging during July moon moving holiday 2015. (Better Name 2016!)
Anyway. I was lucky to have a couple of badass paid dudes to do all the heavy lifting #fuckthosestairs #easybreezymoves and now 85% of my stuff is in a house six minutes from work by foot, with a geologist and the head of a pizza shop who got a room open for me a month earlier than planned. Seems like I won't hear from the management company for a couple months about whether I'm allowed to reside there, but the room will be open Monday.
I gave myself options, so.. I don't have to live in the clutch of fear-begotten-avoidant behavior toward the potential Sour Of All Things. I've got backup. New, right? It's a sweet thing.
Tomorrow--I mean, today, I suppose--I'll crash and probably sleep for two days, but then I'll come out of the cocoon all brand new, go to work (where I fight fires before they happen, lol) and then walk my assss hoommmeeee