My First Apartment

So it begins. I've done the whole living at college (even spent one hellish year in a sorority house) but I have been living at my parents now for two years since the big graduation day. I am moving into my own apartment. Now when I said "my own" I will be living with a roommate. Lynne is her name and she is a phd student at Penn State in the program I am in (American Studies). I think we will be good roommates because of serveral quirky traits we both share. We both prefer books to people at times. We both own all 10 seasons of the TV show "FREINDS". We have wierd Dinosaur fasinations...and so on and so on.

I'm fairly sure we have everything we need, save for a couch but I find as a soon to be 25 year old the concept of moving is daunting. You would think after thousands of years of people moving (think back to nomadic tribes) that we as a people would find an easier way to move rather than putting our lives into boxes and carrying said boxes into a truck or other large vehicles. Afterwards you remove the boxes and place them into their new home. It's a lot of "mans work" to say  the least. The fact that Lynne and I have to do most of this manual work ourselves makes me wish it was the 1950s (in America) and instead of moving all these things ourselves, Lynne and I could eat bonbons, play Bridge, and drink Gin while chain smoking. Oh well it's 2011 and this is one of the Quarter Life Crisis problems I face

Kendra