Completely off-topic:
I am about 95% finished with my relocation project. It has been a learning experience. Here are a few of the things I have learned:

1) I am much more of a filthy, disgusting slob than I ever suspected, and that’s saying something. Picking up and quite literally exposing every object you own to the light of day can reveal to you certain truths about yourself that you’d probably rather not know. It’s not a surprise to find dog hairs in unlikely places, but it certainly is a surprise to find a small slice of what appears to be pepperoni adhered to the BACK of a bookshelf that hadn’t moved away from the wall in over 5 years. I mean, seriously. What the ACTUAL fuck.

2) I have wayyy too “Bob”-damned much STUFF. I sold, gave away, donated, and threw away a huge amount of STUFF, and yet I still have too much STUFF. It’s not like I’m a pathological hoarder, but after the 948th trip up the stairs, my preference for “real” books, DVDs, and CDs over digital equivalents is breeding a certain contempt.

3) The primary feature of the place I left was ‘astonishingly incompetent management’. The turnover was amazing, and the most recent crew told me that their record keeping was so FUBAR that they didn’t have complete information on which units were supposed to be occupied and which weren’t. I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that they can’t find their lease paperwork, or the fact that they told me about it.

The primary feature of the new place seems to be that I have moved in adjacent to That Person Downstairs. The third day I was here, she stormed over and read me the riot act about how my kids were making too much noise and knocking over her potted plants. I apologized and told her it wouldn’t be a problem any longer. It might be worth noting that I don’t have any kids.