You have to look closely to see it. This is a picture of me helping you move.
I know what you’re thinking: it looks like a couple on a tropical beach, enjoying a few beers and some special time together, far removed from all their cares. And yours.
Yes. What I said. Me helping you move.
I don’t know exactly when it happened, but at a certain age - maybe around 40 - I made the decision there were just certain things I wasn’t going to do anymore. Like help you move. In fact I decided I don’t have any friend I like well enough to help move.So don't take it personally.
Sure, there was a time when renting a van or borrowing a friends pickup, dragging your stuff down the flight of stairs from your old place up the flight of stairs to your new place, and being rewarded with cheap pizza and beer at the end of it all sounded like a good time.
But that time has come and gone. Now it just sounds like lousy pizza, warm beer and a bad back.
I'll be happy for you and your new place, and I'd absolutely love to come over and see what you've done with it once you're moved in. Which actually should be pretty easy since there are over 25,000 moving companies in the United States.
It's just that now, I'm not one of them.
1 comment:
I'm surprised you waited until 40 to come to this decision. But then, you are a better friend than I. I started finding out who my real friends were at 25.
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