This Yellow Taxi Cab In Which I Ride

When I wrote the post before this one (Last Night -- about my last night in my house), I had intended to follow it up with a post titled "First Night," which -- clearly -- would be about my first night in the new place. Well, I was thoroughly exhausted after moving into the new place and everything was a mess and I just didn't have the energy or desire to write about it. Now that I feel like writing, I'll have to do a catch up. Moving was pretty much uneventful and occurred without any unforeseen issues. It took hours upon hours and when it was finished, I couldn't move. The stairs of the new apartment killed me along with the sheer amount of stuff that was being moved. I didn't just move myself out of my house into my new apartment. I also moved a bunch of stuff of my dad's from the house to his storage unit. I had accumulated a stuff in the house that I wasn't taking with me to the apartment. My dad decided to keep that stuff despite my protest

My bedroom is blue. The carpet is black. There is really nothing significant about this, except for the fact that I picked out the color for the wall and the color for the carpet when I was, roughly, 12 years old. It's funny how much my 12 year old self is similar to my current self. I would pick the same colors. Right now, there isn't much else in my bedroom besides the walls and the carpet. Bed. Blankets. Pillows. A touch lamp that is on top of a small stand. Alarm clock. One small dresser. A box of fedora's. And me. Everything else is packed up in boxes downstairs in my living room. I'm moving tomorrow. And the realization just hit: Tonight. Is. My. Last. Night. In. This. House. I would be lying if I said there aren't tears in my eyes right now. I'm not quite sure if this is categorized as official crying or just being teary-eyed. The latter doesn't sound any more manly than the former. Even so, I think I eared the right to cry about moving. I h