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You can take this moving thing and...
Sep. 1st, 2001 01:05 amOw.
Today was supposed to be Moving Day. I wasn't quite approaching it very seriously - I hadn't done any packing this last week, and it was just all coming too quickly. I'm thanking my lucky stars that I didn't give notice to my apartment on time.
The house isn't ready yet - they'll still be working on things into the weekend, replacing a window here, stringing me a phone line there, hanging the doors on the kitchen cabinets. The washing machine and the fridge won't even get there until Wednesday. Um...
So I'm falling over my feet grateful to Nancy and her mini-van, and the load of boxes that Kris and Chris and she and I toted up an ungodly number of stairs to my room. Most of my shelves are up there now, so I can start figuring how things will look when I finally get around to moving the rest of my stuff over.
Which may take a while. After one load of boxes, my troopers pooped out, and with John's stacks o' crap, I didn't really want to inflict my packing fu on the others. So the couch and the chair and the big table are gone, but they were huge and convenient in the living room. I'll have to rent another truck some other time, whenever - hijack Lori and Lucy's van when they finally get here. Who knows?
Eck - speculation. I'm tired. Pooped. And giggly-silly beyond belief. We had just brought my couch in the front door of the new house, and something started us laughing. 'Nancy Reagan in drag' is supposed to be a scary thought - a non-giggly thought, right? Uh-uh. Nope. 'Dead nuns! Dead nuns! Bad!'? We're talking hyperventilation on my part.
John's moved now, and that's important. I'm not, but it's a start, and I don't have a firm deadline. I think I'm gonna crawl into bed now, as a matter of fact.
Today was supposed to be Moving Day. I wasn't quite approaching it very seriously - I hadn't done any packing this last week, and it was just all coming too quickly. I'm thanking my lucky stars that I didn't give notice to my apartment on time.
The house isn't ready yet - they'll still be working on things into the weekend, replacing a window here, stringing me a phone line there, hanging the doors on the kitchen cabinets. The washing machine and the fridge won't even get there until Wednesday. Um...
So I'm falling over my feet grateful to Nancy and her mini-van, and the load of boxes that Kris and Chris and she and I toted up an ungodly number of stairs to my room. Most of my shelves are up there now, so I can start figuring how things will look when I finally get around to moving the rest of my stuff over.
Which may take a while. After one load of boxes, my troopers pooped out, and with John's stacks o' crap, I didn't really want to inflict my packing fu on the others. So the couch and the chair and the big table are gone, but they were huge and convenient in the living room. I'll have to rent another truck some other time, whenever - hijack Lori and Lucy's van when they finally get here. Who knows?
Eck - speculation. I'm tired. Pooped. And giggly-silly beyond belief. We had just brought my couch in the front door of the new house, and something started us laughing. 'Nancy Reagan in drag' is supposed to be a scary thought - a non-giggly thought, right? Uh-uh. Nope. 'Dead nuns! Dead nuns! Bad!'? We're talking hyperventilation on my part.
John's moved now, and that's important. I'm not, but it's a start, and I don't have a firm deadline. I think I'm gonna crawl into bed now, as a matter of fact.
