I hate moving with the burning passion of a thousand fiery suns. I sincerely wish I were either still too poor to own any furniture, or rich enough to own all the furniture I want and pay someone else to haul it around for me.

At least the rat has settled in. The first night, I left for an hour, and when I came back he threw himself at the front of the cage and went OH GOD MOMMY I THOUGHT YOU WERE NEVER COMING BAAAAAAAAACK. Last night when I came in, he sort of gruntle-sneezed at me and crawled into his nest box, ticked that I had turned on the lights and interrupted his nap.

I don't know what he has to complain about. He spends all day in a quiet room with the A/C on. I've been scrubbing bathrooms and mopping floors. He can't be too mad; the nose-part came out for some sliced ham this morning.

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