Packing up the office first... I have to be out of it by the 21st. Books are sorted according to liturgical year. I don't need A or C; B is under the box labelled A. Commentaries that have all three years are in the box labelled A, B, C. I am trying hard to label well boxes so that if I don't see the contents for a year, I know what is in them. I have so, so far to go... in two months... to where? Dunno.
Anyone who comes into my office has to trip over the boxes. It is on purpose.
Three years ago to the date, I was in the process of moving. I wasn't anticipating really on having to move three years later, though the possibility always lurked in the back of my mind.
Am I happy? No. Are the cats happy? They don't really know yet.
[I am getting a lot of the spinnning beachball of death tonight.]
5 comments:
I have no words to say, except --love you.
wv: mauggish
yeppa --she felt very mauggish about moving, and put the boxes in front of the door on purpose.
Prayers from the wilds of NE Missouri to you, m'dear. Moving sucks. I don't think my canine boys would care for it, having lived at my place pretty much their entire adult lives.
Moving is a PITA, for sure. My sympathies, Caminante, though I couldn't help but smile at your words below.
It is on purpose.
Human and cat prayers from here. I don't envy your having to move yet again.
Love from me and the felines.
WTF -- is the Episcopal Church purging women priests? It seems that all the people whose blogs I follow are out of work. SUCKS!
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