Last <redacted> I flew to <redacted>. I went out to help <redacted> do some "simple" things around the house, help with loading and packing of his stuff into the U-Haul, and do some of the driving out to Utah.

Day 1 started out OK. Some destruction of the garage wall, removing nails, screws, wood. As the day progressed, my skinny and weak body started to protest. This wasn't a small rebellion or coup, this was a freaking uprising. Hands started to give out, knees felt like they were trapped in a vice, elbows felt like a hammer was being used to move parts around. One injury occurred when my elbow sped into my knee at warp speed while removing a screw from a wall. Double injuries are a rare occurrence, especially when no tools cause the injury.

Day 2 was a nightmare. My body had not fully recovered. I eventually turned into a painting zombie and wandered back and forth between the wall and the paint. I fell into some strange mindset where I just blocked everything except for the path between my designated work areas. Thankfully there were spare percasets in the cupboard.

Day 3 was ohmygodkillmepleasewithaknifeinmyeyehole dump day. Back and forth loading and unloading crap, garbage, shit laying around. I have given up on ever feeling normal again. My body is wracked with pain and agony. I begin to hallucinate. I am unable to form complete sentences. I long for death's sweet embrace.

Day 4 was more dump day. After dump visit, it was carrying boxes downstairs. <redacted> needs to learn a thing or 50 about how to pack boxes. Writing "books" on a box is nice, but don't put every fucking book in the world into that damn box. Spread the shit out a bit. It should be "some books and light fluffy things" so I can actually carry it without my knees coming in contact with my ankles. I think my arms grew a few inches that day.

Day 5 was the "rearrange my horrid U-Haul organizational skills" day. After that it was the start of the drive. This will be covered in Part II.

So, from this point forward....

Dust - Something I do when cleaning. Not something I get covered in. Not something that forms mutant boogers in my cranial cavity.

Painting - Something I see in a frame hanging on a wall. Not something I do to a wall.

Standing - Something I do on occasion to stretch my legs. Not something I do for 14 hours a day.

Walking - Something I do to get from on point to another so that I can sit again. Not something I do back and forth for 14 hours a day.

Dump - Something I take in the privacy of my own home. Not something I drive to so I can unload a bunch of garbage.

<redacted> - Somewhere I shall never see again.

I was able to get some tasty tequila from the store. I think I used words that were too big for the girls at the counter with the blackened toofs based on the blank stare she gave me when I asked where the store was that had some in stock. I really didn't understand much of what she said either. In fact, I don't understand pretty much anything that anyone in <redacted> says. so, I just ended up looking it up on my phone and starting the GPS.

Now, <redacted>...a little advice. At the grocery store where you get your case of Mt. Dew for the crotch fruit, there is an aisle that has things for cleaning those previously white things in your face hole. You put this stuff on a tiny little brush, shove it in that face hole, and then vigorously move it back and forth. You can do this up to three times a day.