It’s 2:35am and I’m so bloody tired.

So tired, in fact, that the delirium has me talking like a British dude, apparently, which is never a good sign! As previously mentioned in our last episode of The Humor Column, I am currently in the process of changing residences to one that’s a bit cleaner than our previous home … and also just a tad bit more spacious, mind you. Of course, the unfortunate side effect of this decision is that unlike my speculation last week that we could simply move to another address to avoid getting all chummy with Mr. Clean, instead we’re actually finding ourselves faced with double cleaning duties, as we not only are required to clean up our old place on the way out, but additionally unless we feel like living amongst all of the dust and dead insects and other assorted nonsense that we found within our new home upon move-in, we’re going to have to go all spick-n-span on that place as well! Apparently it seems that the only true way to avoid cleaning up after oneself is to adopt the lifestyle of the hermit and I’m sorry, but I just don’t look nearly good enough in tattered robes and a gnarly beard to be able to pull off that look…

That said, after I can’t even count how many hours of packing and hauling and scrubbing and annoyed grunting, like it or not, hermit is about how I look and feel. Needless to say, if you felt so inclined to get all dressed up and take me out for a fancy dinner, tonight is not the night in which your high-class friends would be impressed.

In fact, I might actually end up getting us kicked out of the restaurant, but that’s neither here nor there because if you hadn’t yet caught on, I’m a little preoccupied at the moment!

I don’t think I have to tell anybody that moving really sucks, and it sucks even worse when you find yourself like I currently am – that being with an insanely short timeframe to do it all in and virtually no help other than me and my girlfriend. You see, some friends would gladly dedicate any nights and weekends necessary to helping a buddy move, with the only costs being a few cases of beer and a couple of pizzas, but my friends are smarter than that! Having been around the block a few times and even helped me move in the past, they’ve definitely caught on to the idea that I’m not necessarily the cleanest duck in the pond, or at least I don’t keep the cleanest pond, anyways, so whereas anyone else might be able to volunteer their help, knowing that they’ll be showing up to piles upon piles of neatly stacked boxes containing all of the victim’s, err, I mean mover’s worldly belongings, it’s no doubt quite clear to my friends that upon showing up that evening to start hauling boxes, it’s very likely that they could walk into my apartment just as it looks any other day, with a stack of empty boxes in the corner waiting patiently to be filled and me sitting at the computer playing Battle Chess.

Like some famous, yet incredibly lazy guy once said, “There’s nothing like procrastination for putting off what you should’ve done yesterday…”

And thus, due to horrible a work ethic, at least as far as moving is concerned, here I am at 2:47am, covered in dust and sweat and dusty sweat, with only another three trips up to the new place before I can get maybe four hours of sleep before rising and starting up all over again! Of course, with any luck by the end of the weekend, despite sore bones, raw hands, and a weakened spirit, I may still very well be able to announce to the world that the move is complete – a boast that, at 2:48am, seems very much out of reach.

That said, at least this will be the last time we have to clean this new house until it comes time for us to move again…