Because my apartment has zero storage, I had to go out and buy pantry. Because I am poor, said pantry needed to be put together once I got it home. I (okay, I helped...) put it together, and was feeling quite proud of myself and quite grown up once I had it all full and my apartment started to look put together and make sense.
I must admit I was feeling quite smug as I swept the remnants of Styrofoam off my floor, waxing poetic in my head about how mature and adult I was...when I smacked myself in the face with the broom handle, and immediately felt a black eye begin to sprout.
Not only is this a lesson in karma, kids, but a lesson in the fact that I am still 12-years-old, and have no idea how to move without hurting myself.
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