Good ideas turned bad.

Moving in December.

After the first huge snowfall of the year.

Also in the 12-degree temperature.

Packing my box of shoes at the BOTTOM of every box in my car.

Leaving me to unload my ENTIRE car in only the shoes on my feet.

Which happened to be small, black heels.

Also, did I mention it was snowing?

And also cold?

Suggesting The Fiance store his snowboard in the garage.

Because snowboards are MEANT for snow and cold.

Turns out, NO, I AM WRONG. BAD, ME.

Making our very first pot of coffee ever.

Drinking two cups of it.

Right before bed.

Assuming Chicken would give me grief for shoving her in a Pet Taxi.

Assuming Harley would ease into her own Pet Taxi, problem-free.

Trying to PUT Harley into a Pet Taxi under the assumption she was a cat.

Not a fire-breathing, spitting Demon from Hell.

Eating a Reuben sandwich from Culver's on an empty stomach.

Not having brought any toilet paper for my first night in The New Apartment.

Did I mention the Reuben?

Setting my alarm to wake up extra early to make time for the new, long commute.

Not turning the alarm clock ON.

Letting The Fiance cook a pizza.

Telling him I'm better at it.

Also, remember those three beer bongs on Halloween? Bad idea.