Trying to avoid packing... A poem

Box wine in a Mardi Gras cup,
teeny shorts & a sacriligious tee.
I'm sweating dirt and procrastination,
There might not be one more attractive than me

I hate the entire moving process... like a lot. That is all.


P.S. If I ever become famous I'm going to demand that there be a chilled box of Franzia Sunset Blush waiting for me. And yes, I do realize that in this hypothetical situation I would be able to afford a nicer vintage than one encased in cardboard...