3 - unpacking

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So we ended up leaving unpacking for the next day after returning home from HEB, because we were still too tired to look through the boxes and who actually unpacks on their first day moving? I mentioned to will I'd have a truck coming in with my last few things and he offered to help, but when it rolled in at nine in the morning today and I knocked on his door to see if he was willing to help me out I was actually pleasantly surprised that he was up and ready to go.

With my mattress, headboard, and bed frame, two chairs I found at a Goodwill before I moved and decided they were cheap enough and cute enough to drag two hours away to Vista Hermosa, and a couple of boxes precariously brought to the second floor with the help of William we were officially done with the moving.

I tip the driver and drag myself upstairs one last time, closing the front door with a sigh as I let myself truly rest.

William is sitting by a pile of boxes next to the kitchen, a bowl of cereal in one of his hands and a spoon on the other. The place looks so bad; we created a good enough path to move around the place but there are boxes and bags everywhere and now my mattress is leaning against the wall, blocking the large window in the living room. It's a twin XL, nothing necessarily nice, or that takes a lot of space, but it's still in the way now, especially with the amount of other stuff just littered around.

I should have started a minimalist lifestyle when moving to University, my consumerism will one day come to bite me in the ass.

"So," He says, after munching on his cereal for a couple of seconds, "what are we doing first?"

I push my hands through my hair, trying to flatten it out enough to get it into a ponytail.

"First, we whine about how we don't want to do this."

"Alright, but what if we've done that already?"

Crossing my arms, I make my way towards him, assessing the boxes and the janky system we tried to come up with to 'separate' things in specific categories that fell apart as quickly as we came up with it.

"Then we just try to separate boxes as best as we can, your stuff, my stuff, living room, bathroom, linen closet, kitchen..." I trial off, "yeah I think that's it."

"Sounds like a good plan, captain."

I go ahead and start, plopping myself right in the middle of the living room where the larges stack of boxes sit, it's slightly overwhelming, but he did a good job of marking things with a large W and then listing things that were in it. I hadn't gone that far and simply labeled my boxes with things like "Kitchen stuff".

"I guess this is what people hate about moving, unpacking everything." It's an offhanded comment, I hadn't thought much of the process before.

"What? Is this your first time moving?"

I look up at his direction; he placed his bowl in the kitchen sink and is now walking in my direction, drying his hands on his jeans.

"Yeah, mom and dad—" It's nearly impossible not to grimace at the thought of them together now, "I mean, my family has always had money" I make it clear to make quotation marks on the last part, as far as I've seen I have got little of that money myself, "enough money, at least, and they bought a house when they were younger, which is where I lived all my life."

If I ever get to buy a house in my lifetime, it'll be a miracle, I can't imagine what a concept it would be to be able to buy a home in my twenties, especially in this day and age.

"Until school came and punched you in the face with bills and expectations?" He continues, grabbing one box by the couch we moved in yesterday. William either purposely chose not to note my sudden drop in tone, or simply missed it, which I appreciate.

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