Kentucky Fried Grooving

Today, Thursday, I made a big move.

I moved up one floor into the sky. I now live a floor higher than I did before.

Higher->Floor->Moving->Moving up->

MOVING ON UP.

And somehow, MOVING ON UP->Kentucky Fried Chicken.

BUT, we blasted music while making the move. So thus, Kentucky Fried Grooving.

And now you know how my mind works. Don't you feel alive? Doesn't knowing the way I think just make you feel alive? Maybe I'm alive because I think the way I do.

While moving, I carried boxes upon boxes from one room to another. When I moved all the boxes, and my new roommate moved his, our room was Thrashtroyed (thrashed and destroyed).

As I struggled to make my way from one end of the room to the other (and, receiving multiple cardboard cuts and hanger stabs) I realized I had a lot of stuff.

Putting books on shelves and boxes under beds, Trevor and I learned what it means to be sentimental. No, not old woman sentimental. My grandmother kept all her kid's teeth, how sadistic is that.

No, I mean look at these scars sentimental; I mean I laughed till I cried sentimental; I mean sleeping till 3pm sentimental.

I love my new room. I love my new roommate. I love my life.

I loved Kentucky Fried Grooving my way, up, up, up.