The next time I say the phrase “Helping a friend move” followed by the word “pleasure” in the same sentence, feel free to cyber smack me.
Don’t get me wrong, I still like getting my hands dirty when I can. It is a nice break from the ambiguousness nature of poetry where sometimes left is right and right is wrong but it’s ok since my third eye sees through all… (Insert Wilhelm Scream) This turns the math of getting a size 12 apartment loaded onto a size 4 moving truck into a fun game of manual labor and physics.
Only problem is that we weren’t moving anything but instead we were getting rid of some old tiles. The first room was pretty easy but the second larger room was a pain in the fuckin ass. It was taking us forever to remove just one tile. Then I recalled some One to Grow On fact from some home improvement channel- adhesives are easier to remove when they are heated.
Somebody hand me a hair dryer and save all the wise cracks!
We were done pretty quick after that and chomped through a well earned free meal of seafood pasta, one a pomodore/garlic cappellini mix and the other a wheat noodle cream delicacy. Yes, yes, y’all, it is amazing what I will do for some good eats!
All was golden till I fell asleep on the train and missed my stop, not by much, but I was completely out and by the time I did get to the crib, my lower back was starting to tense up which means I really should chill with this part time laborer shit cuz I ain’t 25 no mo, sheet I ain’t even 30 any more!
Happy to report that my body is feeling all kinds of good this morning even though I had to get up hella early for work and none of this has anything at all to do with poetry cuz like I said, every once in a while I like to give that shit a rest and deal with the simple things in life, like practicing getting a house in order.
Love ya like Bob Villa loves syndication…