Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the nick of time So despite my misgivings about the rushed nature of all of this apartment finding and moving and scraping up money, it turns out that we timed it just about perfectly. Zee got her job in Long Beach, so she'll be packing up and exiting this house, and we'll be exiting this house at just about the same time. Actually, she starts work there six days before we move into the apartment, but she assures me that it won't be an issue. I think she still has to refurb the house in order to sell it. (And, well, good luck, because the house needs a whole lotta work. She took out most of the carpets because of the cats and dog, and the dog has torn ridges into the door leading up from the basement, and the door and woodwork in the upstairs bathroom.) My moves always reflect the job I'm currently working. When I was at Pizza Hut, I packed up my crap in boxes that formerly held bagged mozzarella and sauce. When I worked at the vet clinic, we moved our stuff up to Pennsylvania in boxes that had held bags of IV fluid, packs of surgical gloves, medication, and syringes. Now that I'm at the 'Mart, I'm moving things in boxes from doggie snacks and rawhide. It lends a slight air of the surreal to this otherwise mundane experience that I rather enjoy, plus it hearkens back to my childhood, where all the Christmas ornaments were always kept in bright yellow Cutty Sark liquor boxes. Ah, memories. I caught the cat being fierce with an old fur I had tucked into a box to cushion some objects. She figured out how to open the box, and then growled, pounced, and dragged it out onto the floor, where she wrestled it into submission. Sometimes the cat surviving behind the KFC comes out to make an appearance. 7:12 p.m. - 2004-02-19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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