Thursday, March 22, 2007
Moved
Last week, when I was putting over a thousand dollars on my Mastercard at the Volvo repair place, I mentioned to the guy behind the counter that I was moving this week. A disembodied voice from somewhere in the back yelled out, "It never ends!!!" Disembodied voice, you are right. Moving is the suck. Except that I love my new apartment so much I could cry. Last night I had a meeting that went very late and when I drove up to my house at 11:45 at night, straight into the driveway a mere two paces from the backdoor, I was overcome with happiness. And then I was greeted by cheerful little cats at the door.
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Ah, moving. Moving truly is the Never-Ending Story, except with less of the flying-furry-spaniel-eared-worm-thing, and more with the self-injury and item breakage. Oh, and the oft-heard exclamation: "So THAT'S where that went...."
My most recent move was a personal best for me, as it involved:
-A third story apartment with no stairs
-a cast iron bathtub that had to be taken to West Van
-A wooden filing cabinet that weighed as much as Pluto
-Monsoon-like weather conditions
I also moved a great deal of stuff while Katie was having a facial and spa treatment. Unfair? Not really, since she had just planned our entire wedding (and let's face it: I need never think again for myself unless I really feel like it), and she did just let me get away with dropping 3 large making a perfectly good car slightly faster in my deluded efforts to crush the egos of dudes who bought compensatomobiles.
Sorry to hear of your Volvonian dollar demands. Great to hear the the new place is worth it! Don't die alone: the cats will eat your face!
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