Moving away from bogan landlord and his bogan family ROCKS.
Packing up 100 boxes of books (this is, (un)fortunately, not an exaggerated number. I counted.) is not the most thrilling way to spend a few days. Packing SUCKS.
Being a packrat ROCKS — until you have to move, at which point you have to clean out boatloads of crap you’ve collected over the years — and then you have to clean the spaces you’ve cleaned out. Double-cleaning SUCKS.
Knowing that the place you’re moving into is better equipped than the previously mentioned Bogan Villa; that it has a laundry room, a bath tub, a little yard, and many walls against which to lean bookshelves ROCKS.
Getting a rejection letter from F&SF SUCKS.
Sending the rejected story out to a new market right away ROCKS.
Natcon proving it isn’t a Not-con ROCKS.
Having the loans officer at the bank tell you that your pitiful PhD scholarship makes an increase in your credit limit ‘unaffordable’ SUCKS.
Knowing that being broke means you can do nothing but write (because writing’s got the biggest free budget ever) ROCKS (and sucks a bit, too. Trying to find the silver lining here, people.)
Moving, and all of the crap that goes along with it, will be over by the end of this weekend, which completely ROCKS.