I'm not dead...I'm just really tired

I hate the summer.
I hate moving.

Combining the two makes me completely miserable. We're moved into our new place in South Philly, but we live among piles and piles of boxes. I can't find my ball winder, eye shadow, Q tips, books, notpads, pens, or anything else I may need on a regular basis.

I'm trying to keep calm, but between the rising stress from not finding anything and ridiculous heat its hard not to just cry hysterically on a regular basis.

On happier notes my cats went through their first check up A-ok! Besides a small case of ear mites they are happy and healthy and don't hate me for holding them down while getting their ears probed. If it wasn't so irritatingly hot I'd hug them.

Did I mention I'm typing this while sitting on the floor? Yeah...it's that bad.

But at least I'm moved. That shithole we occupied for 8 months is a distant memory.
And we have the swellest bar a block and a half from our apartment. I can see it from my living room.

And everyone knows a good bar is where your heart is...

I won't be a stranger...well...until the heat in this little room is unbearable...
....and a chair and desk would be swell...