…moving in New England during winter time. Because chances are, it would blizzard on the day I was supposed to move. And doesn’t that just sound miserable? No means No.
In this case, apparently, to quote a fantastic friend, "No just means try harder.”
Because actually, it turns out that moving the week after a blizzard is pretty damn miserable. No thank you, I’ll take 115 degrees - like it was in May in DC. I melted, but there wasn’t treacherous ice, or feet of frozen snow piled up on the curbs making direct transport of belongings from parking spot to sidewalk impossible.
But this is the last time I move. Ever. People can just come to me. I hear the life of a recluse is pretty glam.