My day so far
Wake up. Reluctantly.
Scramble the remaining eggs (two whole, two whites-only) with the remaining farmer’s cheese and a bit of the remaining olive oil in the remaining pot for breakfast. Eat, from badly-chipped breakfast plate that we’re throwing away because we bought new unchipped ones a few months ago.
“What are we going to do with the bedclothes?” asks husband. Don’t ask me, I do not say; I had planned to switch over to the ones we’ve got packed (so that we know they’re packable) a day or two ago. Say “Dunno,” instead. It’s a moving-zen thing. Moving zen is very closely related to travel zen.
Check email. Answer important 5Weeks communique. Note that phone company has graciously decided that yes, it will cut off my service on the date I requested. Check IR Managers site. Check 5Weeks. Check blogs. Sign on to Meebo, just in case anything 5Weeksish comes up. Set away message: “Packing and trying not to panic. Don’t expect quick response.”
Pack three boxes of miscellaneous odds and ends. Clear out clean laundry from yesterday. Determine what will be worn the next couple of days. Intermittently, attempt to reassure terrified Dream-goth, who is skulking about with his tail down, hiding in corners, and generally being pitiably upset about change. Pack the laundry hamper with “tall stuff” such as yardsticks, bicycle pump, box kite, cane (from the London Sprained Knee Incident), bathroom hangy-thing, and luggage-dragger.
Pull down suitcases from coat closet. Set the biggest in the bedroom; it’s coming with us. Fill the other two with Li’s quilt from the couch, my blanket and antimacatsar from my armchair, and sleeping bags we won’t be needing. Note that biggest suitcase is pretty damn big; ponder ideas for filling it.
Run obstacle course, scattering skulking cats, to answer ringing phone before it stops ringing. Tell moving-truck driver how to get here. (Get off 495 at the 236 exit. Go west on 236. Turn right on our street. Not hard.) Forget to ask him what he and his peeps like to drink. Oh, well, can make a run to the store tomorrow if need be.
Stop at computer. Note that Meebo is flashing. Answer very kind IM from Steve Lawson re: the suckiness of moving and the necessity of not panicking. Check email. Briefly skim blogs. Write quick email to IR Managers mailing list. Note that IR Managers mailing list is broken. Swear sulphurously but in silence. Put in trouble ticket at webhost, sans naughty words.
“Want to go to lunch?” husband asks. Ask where. He suggests Thai place in mall. Bleh. Turkish place nearby is much better. He agrees. We go to Turkish place, have really lovely gigantic sandwiches with equally lovely immense Greek salad, feel much better. Thank husband for very good idea.
On the way back, say “I think either quilt or down comforter will fit in big suitcase. Which would you prefer?” He says comforter. Once back, successfully stuff comforter in half of big suitcase. Rejoice! Suggest that pillows can go in other half. Dump air mattress in last remaining empty drawer; won’t be needing it. Stuff quilt in biggest remaining box.
Clean out fridge and freezer. Sad waste, but not as bad as it could have been; mostly condiments. Empty and wash recyclable bottles; put them in recycling bag. Dump the rest in trash bag. Tie bags. Clean up a small spill. Note three bags containing varying amounts of catnip that should be consolidated and put in the cat carriers. Put miscellaneous kitchen stuff (plastic containers, mostly) on top of quilt in box. Put last to-be-packed pair of shoes (his) on top of quilt in box.
Husband has dug into a packed storage container and disarranged everything. He can’t get it back in closeable condition. Offer to rearrange it; offer accepted. Rearrange it (I’m good at this stuff). Close container with an inch to spare.
Blog sporadically over several-hour period while finding more things to pack and packing them. Disconnect zootibar from computer; stash in faithful Land’s End bag which (along with cat carrier) will be brought on the plane when we leave Saturday. Take keys off keyring; put with last rent check. Put remainder of keyring on keyring-holder in faithful Land’s End bag. Nip downstairs and pull carpet remnant that I never wanted and we have never used out of storage and into trash area. Watch husband cope with a last few rolled-up posters. Close last few boxes.
Debate how to handle cat-litter tomorrow. Agree on plan. Bubble-wrap and strap cardboard to last remaining framed posters.
Finish blog post. Publish blog post. Start thinking about where to order dinner delivery from…
Hate moving. Hate it most muchly. Hate it almost as much as Dream does.