(Furniture? What furniture?)One of the things that I absolutely love, is rearranging my bookshelves. I am known to have very intricate systems for displaying books that are forced to live with me, that change about once a week according to my moods, so I can rearrange everything once more. By that logic, moving the furniture from place to place could prove to be fun too. No?
Well, there are two reasons why I decided to move things around and none of them was pleasant. First, the only socket in our room stopped working which meant I had to come up with some way to use any extension cables at my disposal to try to get electricity back so I could do my school work (and more preferably to procrastinate online, as usual) while eliminating as many possibilities to trip over and cripple myself or my roommate (if she ever decided to come back to the place she lives in).
And secondly, I needed to move the table and the bookshelf out of the way for the most annoying and useless maintenance man that has ever walked the earth who is coming tomorrow to fix things. [Update: he didn't fix anything, to no one surprise.]
Gods, I'm so excited to move out from this place. Even if it means that I'll have no furniture to rearrange for years to come.
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