I am extremely exhausted. The reason is simple. I am once more on the move.
Let me explain with brief historical inputs. I arrived in Kuala Lumpur with a luggage bag and a few small boxes in September 2003. I moved in with my 2 sisters for 3 months while working as an admin assistant in Damansara. Their house is situated in Tmn Tun. After a few cat fights and occasional bitching, I decided to move to my foster brother's place for a month or so while scouting for a place to stay near my future institution (unidentified at that moment). A few items were squeezed in a Proton Iswara Aeroback and off I went to stay at John's. A month later I moved out successfully to settle happily at USJ2 with some new found college friends. A packed car brought my things over. Proton Iswara, the normal kind. A year later, I found myself moving once more. I hired a small lorry and with other boxes from other housemates, we managed to shift to another house in USJ2... I thought that would be the end of the moving, at least till I finish my diploma. I was wrong. Unwanted circumstances forced me out of that house barely 10 months upon arrival. Unwanted 'evil forces', inhuman beings. I can't even think back without goose bumps popping up. Hmm. Anyway, this trip round, the lorry was almost packed with my things, and around 5 round trips managed to bring my things over.
Alas, a month ago my housemate informed me that she will be terminating the contract at the end of this year. I had to, once again, scout around for a place to stay (and a housemate too!). I found a place and arranged for transport to move my things over. The mover, Boy came with a 1 tonne lorry. Guess what? He packed the lorry mercilessly full and announced to me that the lorry cannot take anymore of my boxes or anything whatsoever. Left amidst the dust laid a number of 8 more boxes and other electronic devices. 5 more trips perhaps? Or even 10? Who knows? I already made 2 trips with things to my new place.
The 2 poor Indian guys were heaving pitifully as they carried my things up 3 floors. Gosh, and the trips my friends and I made to the 3rd floor were equally tiring. I was very close to being accused for manslaughter (taking the lives of 2 innocent mover guys) or perhaps free labor and a bit of enslaving (I paid, don't get me wrong, yet what was given does not seem enough to cover for a proper massage therapy!!!)
* sigh * I still need to move. There are still trips to be made. And my new place is still waiting patiently to be cleaned. Oh no. Volunteers will be given a free meal. Right Justine? So anyone out there. I am hollering for help. Help?
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