Yes, I Moved Into A Heroin Den. THANKS FOR ASKING!

Moving is an exciting, beautiful thing! You pack up your stuff and you put it in boxes and then you load into transportation and move it to your new place. It sounds so fucking easy it makes you wonder why people don't do this all the fucking time.

The trip down here was something that magic is made off because it consisted of packing our place into a trailer at the last minute because uHaul decided they were going to fuck us over and tickle our genitals while withholding our reservation from us until the last! possible! minute! Because that's how they roll. They roll like assholes.

And The Pilot was extremely tired and he was the one responsible for driving the truck and trailer across one province and into another so when he sadly said to me, "Babe, you've got to drive some of this trip because I am so tired and I need some sleep." and my first reaction was "ARE YOU KIDDING ME? If I drive we will fucking die." but I saw how tired he was so instead I said, "OKAY!" and totally faked any type of confidence I was supposed to have about driving while pulling a big ass overloaded trailer.

In total, I drove an hour out of a 17 hour trip. The whole time while The Pilot was trying to sleep I kept say "OMG, we are so going to fucking die! We're dead! I'm killing us! Any minute now we are going to fucking die in fire!" until the point he told me to pull over so we can switch because it'd be more relaxingly for him to actually be driving so I would shut up about death and fire.

And then we made it to Edmonton late at night and decided to crash as soon as possible because The Pilot was so beyond tired but I figured "He can't really be that tired, he's still functional, let's make him watch a show that neither of us have watched before but I'm going to demand that he fucking watch it straight from start to finish because I am an asshole with no soul.". True story.

Dude probably didn't get to sleep until midnight.

In the morning we were also criticized by the hotel manager for talking too loudly in the shower.

I couldn't have even made that complaint up if I tried.

And then we drive again for some hours and despite me being a gas gauge Nazi and always demanding we are filled up at the whim of my paranoia, The Pilot ignored me with a hand to the face and drove and drove until we were practically out of gas. So it was only natural for me to get hysterical and proudly declare "I was so fucking right, you should have listened to me and now we are going to be stranded and eventually die of fire and hobo raping!". But lucky for The Pilot, who'd be the first natural target of the hobo raping, we managed to limp into a small rink-dink town just in time.

So it was kind of nice that we didn't die. Or get hobo raped.

After that it was smooth sailing, I think. I slept most of the way. It was a good sleep.

Then I woke up when we were an hour away from Kelowna, our new home, only to be told by The Pilot that I was ruining his life because I was ruining his music choices by not letting him listen to the stupidest shit ever. Phil Collins? FUCK THAT NOISE!

And then we pulled in and found a place to crash that didn't have hot water but a working toilet so that was nice. Then the dog vomited on us as a "Fuck you assholes for ruining my life" sort of deal.

Then we woke up and moved into our place the next day and while we were unpacking we totally saw a junkie shooting up heroin in the car port after fighting off a few other junkies from his score. Then he got chased off by a soccer mom that informed us that there is someone in the building here that supplies the homeless people from the fucking homeless shelter next door with heroin and then supplies the rest of the building with pot.

You know, because we're in BC y'all.

Can you guess who got hysterical after that? Both of us. Because fuck that shit.

And then we visited The Pilot's parents only for them to inform us that the McDonalds' that's behind our building got shut down for being the biggest drug haven in Kelowna and that they were never going to visit us as long as we live in that street and would we like chicken or beef for dinner?

But hey, at least we have ducks out back.

Heroin ducks.