Denim Jacket: Old Navy thrifted, Lace blouse: F21, Jeans: Kate Jeans thrifted, Shoes: Urban Original, Purse: Vintage D&B
When Ian and I moved from our two bedroom apartment to our one bedroom apartment (within the same complex) we rented a Uhaul. Might seem pathetic since we literally drove across the parking lot to get to our new place, but it kept things easy and it was only $40.
When we went to pick up the truck, Ian realized that he left his wallet back home and so I was gonna have to be the Uhaul driver back to the apartment...
I absolutely HATE driving any vehicle that isn't mine because it just makes me nervous. Like everything else in life...
But so anyway, we did the inspection where we write down all the knicks on the truck so that we aren't blamed for them when we bring it back and then we finally drive off.
I know I'm referring to this Uhaul as a "truck" but don't picture a little pickup. Picture one of those huge moving semi-trucks that companies deliver furniture in.
Since Ian knew I was nervous, he drove his unlicensed self right behind me the whole time.
We made it safely back to the apartments and I went to park it so that he could do the whole reverse-up-the-driveway-for-easy-loading thing that I'm not good at.
The only problem is that I ever so confidently pulled into a covered parking spot... And like slow motion, rammed the top of the truck on the roof of the parking spot.
Ian was still behind me watching this whole matter take place. And I just looked out the window like "eek... did that just happen???"
I tried blaming it on him for not honking at me when he realized what I was doing, but the truth is, I should have realized what I was doing... Hahaha!
Luckily the edges of the Uhaul are protected by metal so there was no damage done.
Unless you count a bruised ego on my part.