Though unfinished, today has already been a rather industrious one. I helped with B's parents move from their log cabin way out in the middle of buttfuck to a very cute little 1930's house in the 'burbs.

First we went to B's grandmother's house to fetch his dad. His dad drove us to the truck rental place to pick up the moving truck. We went inside briefly but B had to leave because there was a HIDEOUS FURCAT in the office. He's allergic to cats. I had to leave because the office smelled like cat piss and somehow managed to be hotter than the sweltering Florida air outside.

Love this state. Don't get me wrong. Eighty degrees at 8 in the morning is super duper fun.

The truck was acquired and the bajillion mile drive to the middle of nowhere was on. The truck only had 2 seats in the cab so I was stuck with half a buttcheek on stable ground and forced to use my catlike balance to keep from falling, like an oaf, to the floor. B made the rest of the passenger side seat his temporary throne. If it weren't impossible to stay mad at him, I'd be mad at him.

The drive was mostly silent. B's dad isn't much of a talker (and neither am I), but B tells me he likes me. His mom does, too.

At Log Cabin in Buttfuck there were several cows and miles and miles of what appeared to be nothing but foliage. It reminded me of home. By home I mean where my mom is. B's mom has a little teddy bear that says "home is where your mom is," and that, among gazillions of other thingamabobs, is one of the things we packed up.

Man, I hate cows. Do they ever shut up?

B's dad owns a horrible stuffed bobcat that he and B used to torment me while we were moving. They made me put it in the truck. I think it might've been the last thing to go.

The drive back was also mostly silent except for when B went to fetch us some drinks. His dad and I exchanged the most words we ever have since we met, I think. He asked me if I liked being free from the call center and I replied in the affirmative, also telling him it was nice to have the remainder of my sanity back.

We unpacked. Left dozens of boxes of disorganized stuff for B's mom to sort out, mostly because she's the only one who has any idea what to do with any of it.

We escaped, but only because B had a prior arrangement. He's at the comic book shop right now being a nerd, as is his wont. After he left I turned plant-empath; I went to Wal-Mart's garden center on a mission and came back with glorious cell-walled booty. I bought and repotted a hibiscus and a vinca because our balcony sucks and needed some color. I also put a windchime out there.

B will probably tell me I'm gay when he gets home and sees it.

And I will say, "I'm a girl, fartknocker."