Day 2 of Moving: fun for the whole family

The Lost Boys came over to move stuff this morning, and fun was had by all, and also lots of boxes slung around. I started out with the apartment fairly well full of stuff. By the time they left, I'd say that the amount of stuff I'm going to have to move tonight and tomorrow is well within my capacity to move easily, with time left for cleaning.

Highlights of the day:

the little guy carrying my (wooden) sword and whacking over the screen door with it
the Lost Boys repeating the screen door maneuver twice more (I didn't see this, but it was gleefully reported by said Lost Boys)
pizza
the 'M' theory
slapstick moving humor
me getting "Fett's 'Vette" stuck in my head

Day 3

Figment came over last night to help move stuff. This was a good thing, because I started majorly freaking out. I tend to do that.

Sis and the gang came over a little earlier this morning, and she found that there had been a hole punched out of her wall. Punched, because it's fist-shaped. She did not do that. I did not do that. The Little Fayoumis did not do that (it's at the wrong height, he lacks the arm strength, and it's too big to be his). It had been covered over with a picture, the one picture that marxdarx had not taken down. She called him about it, and he denied having done it.

And that, of course, has severed ties between him and us entirely. It could have been no one else.

Most of everything is moved, except for a few little odds and ends here and there, and the last of the essential stuff that involves the phone line and the shower. I'm exhausted, dead on my feet, but still moving things and myself. It'll get done.

Darkside is excused from It's Your Duty As A Best Friend To Help Move; What Kind Of Friend Are You?? because of his help last weekend above and beyond the call of duty at the expense of my cordless phone's battery.

Mind over Matter

10:30 am
Spirit: willing.
Flesh: willing.

12:30 pm
Spirit: getting discouraged.
Flesh: starting to keel over.

2:30 pm
Spirit: determined.
Flesh: staggering weakly.

3:30 pm
Flesh: has not responded for past half hour.
Spirit: last quoted as saying, "Fuck this shite, I'ma bugger off to the pub for a pint."


Moving: still not done.

End of the Road

The maintenance witch was understanding about the problems that happen when you've got a jackass vs. the wall, but there's probably still going to be a bit of hassle.

Figment responded to my somewhat-stressed message on his machine and came over to haul a few more things. Now it's almost all over but packing up computer/phone/lamp/alarm clock, giving the place a vacuuming, getting a shower, and those few last-minute things that you say "Oh, right..." about just when you think you were supposed to be done.

My brain's not all here, but I had a frappucino and the maintenance witch gave me ibuprofen. Figment's coming back after he gets through with dinner, and we can move this last residue of stuff.

I think the last thing that I'm going to be taking care of is the seals.

Figment's going to be back any time now, so I think I'll vacuum before I shower, as while it's vastly unsociable to shower while you have a guest present, it's even less social to be in the shower and unable to hear them knock when they show up. The antisociability index of showering while a guest is present goes down if the guest is near unto family, and also will be using the shower ...


Figment's here, and we've been moving stuff, cleaning, and collapsing exhausted and talking about matters both esoteric and romantic: Figment has become a part of the "set the Lunatic up with the Maniac" conspiracy.

Offline

I won't have 'net connectivity nor phone at home after this until Thursday; phone gets turned on Thursday, 'net gets turned on Friday.

So.

That's about it, then -- and I'll probably be haunting the Willow House for a while just to make sure my e-mail inbox is cleaned out and I don't miss too much.