I've spent the past week moving from my old bachelor to a two bedroom with my man lover! The living part is fun, the moving part--> not so much.
I was carrying a stupid (can you tell i'm a little bit bitter) IKEA table really high (because i'm so strong) and the damn middle part came out and landed right on my big toe. I was in momentary shock, and still managed to get shit on the elevator, but once I reached the ground level I started crying like a little pansy.
It goes to say that I don't see any more marathons in my near future, which blows. Cheers to training upper body for the next 6 months like the average male gym-goer :)
Have a great day everyone