Moving Just Sucks

The weekend was pretty exhausting. Saturday I helped Katie move her stuff from her old place in New Farm to her parents' house in Redcliffe. With formidable spatial awareness and a little personal lubricant, we managed to cram absolutely everything into our borrowed 4x4. Unfortunately, there were some massive storm clouds gathering over the city as we were about to leave, so we decided to drop by a hardware store to get some kind of covering for her mattress, which was tied to the roof rack. The guy there was friendly and helpful, and suggested we could save some cash by grabbing a dropsheet instead of a tarpaulin. This sounded like good advice, so we did as he suggested. After all, he'd know what he was talking about, right? Well, it turned out he was a complete fool. We hadn't even hit the highway before the dropsheet tore in about six pieces, and started shredding off like confetti. As if on cue, the heavens opened, and rain battered down, soaking everything on the roof. We stopped and tried to stick the sheet back together with gaff tape, but it was a complete disaster. Thanks Mr Hardware man, you suck.

Sunday I packed up the car and carted another load of my possessions down to my Dad's place on the Gold Coast. It didn't rain, but the lock on the back of the 4x4 jammed, meaning I had to stuff everything in through the front door. This put me in a foul mood for the journey, but a short stretch of hurtling through highway traffic at 110km/h, watching tiny, easily-crushable cars scatter before me, and I was feeling right as rain. This is exactly the reason why SUVs are so popular, particularly in America.