Tomorrow is moving day. I have put off packing long enough. It is time to begin. I could have started yesterday or the day before. I could have started last week. But the way I see it, the earlier you start packing, the longer your place is in an uproar. You don't pack better if you pack earlier. You just spend more time wondering where the cheque book is, or the corkscrew or the TV remote. Am I looking forward to moving? I am not. But there are a couple of positive factors. One, Ed is excited. He saw the new house for the first time this morning, and ran around saying, Yup and, Bing and other youthly enthusiasms. I stood there and smiled. Two ... hmm. Now that I think about it, I can't quite come up with a second positive. All I see ahead of me is work. Specifically, packing, carrying, and unpacking boxes of reading material. Subdue your thirst for books that you may die not babbling but at peace, says Marcus Aurelius. (That's him there. Check the eyes!) Too late. Book boxes stack higher and weigh more than everything else I own put together, and that includes some pretty hefty debt. The good news is that I've done this before, so I know what I am in for. Or is that the bad news? Anyway, I have no time to spare for chit-chat like this. Nice as it is to talk to you guys, I have back muscles to strain. Next room: kitchen.
Comentarios