Butterfingers

I've kept you out of the loop. I'm getting a roommate. She's a stranger, and she's moving in tomorrow. Actually, she's not a 100% stranger; in fact, she's good friends with one of my best friend's sisters (capiche?). Considering that I've lived alone for the last year and loved it (still have scarring from my stint with Crazy-Psycho-Roommate-From-Hell), I'm not exactly excited about the arrangement, but my bank account is thrilled, and she's a lovely girl, so I know it will be great. Who doesn't love making new friends, right?

I decided to get serious making the upstairs presentable, oh, about an hour ago. Proper Roommate Readiness Cleanup mandated making room for her in my closet-sized bathroom, clearing out Christmas decorations residing in the extra bedroom, transporting said decor to my CRV, sweeping dust bunnies from the vacant room and removing all my clothing from the extra closet (oh, how I'll miss the extra closet).

Another thing you should know about me... I abhor, hate and loathe taking multiple trips. Why take 3, 4 or 5 trips when you can schlep it all in 1? In theory the practice sounds perfectly efficient and time-saving. 2 shattered bottles of nail polish, 18 nail polish remover soaked cotton balls, 6 broken Christmas ornaments, 1 (or more) scratch in my 1930's hardwood, 4 broken fingernails, 2 smashed toes, 1 bloody lip, 64 tears, and 27 minutes later, and everything is ready for Miss Rooms to set up house. Yes Sirree, efficiency at its finest.