What would Freud say?

On the day we arrived in Victoria, it was a sweltering million degrees Celsius. After a lovely time(although nauseating - I don't do well with moving water things) on the ferry from Vancouver, it was finally time to start unloading the U-Haul.

First stop - Derek and Ariann's. They live in the hoity toity neighbourhood in the basement suite of Crazybarefeet's sister. It is GORGEOUS. In one direction you can see the mountains; in the other direction, the ocean.

However gorgeous it is, it is also down a 20 step flight of stairs. Ugh. Thirty trips up and down the steps later, I had banged my shin 3 times on the U-Haul hitch and was sweating through my blue jeans I had foolishly worn. I was texting back and forth with The Guy throughout to tell him of our progress and of my ouchie leg. His suggestion? Stop kicking the hitch. Thanks, jackass.

Last stop around 4pm was Ky's place. It didn't take long to haul her things in and get the U-Haul on its way back to the place where U-Haul's sleep when they aren't working. When the last box was loaded into the basement suite, I sat down and texted "We are done." I then went about helping Ky move things around and do some other preparations.

It was an hour later when I realized The Guy had not responded. I checked my last text to see what I had written. I realized it sounded very much like the shortest, most terse break-up text in the history of man. "We are done."

I never did clarify what I meant. Every once in awhile I chuckle to myself about the time I broke up with the Guy over text messaging.



In other news: Go see Ky's pictures of her new digs. It's awesome.