Only person who showed up to help move was Nathaniel's brother. Only truck available was too small. Called my dad, had him meet us at the apartment. Still wasn't enough space for everything. Storage place closed at 10 - left at 8:15, got there at 9:15. Unloaded like mad-men. Got done at 10:04. Gate was locked. Called for code - while they were asking for our info (to bill us out the butt), someone from the storage place across the street who knew the code saw us and came over, so I think we avoided that, at least.

Brought things to my parents', got Constantine put down. By the way, were greeted by a cozy candle-lit room, my parents even put up and painted a wall. Wow. I'm not gonna cry, I promise.

Took a breather. And now Nathaniel and his brother have to drive back to the apartment to get the rest of the stuff. He was at his mom's the past two nights, so that he could get to the city for his CPR re-cert, and he's been awake since 4:30, when his step-dad wakes up (EVERY SINGLE DAY) and blasts the tv. Wtf.

I feel guilty going to bed. He is beside himself. This day has pushed all the limits. Incredibly, no arguments were had and we managed to laugh for a decent amount of it. That's what way too much coffee will do for you.