Temporarality
I’ve never been much of a nester. To this point I leave Eric, my old housemate, who tried desperately to decorate our apartment to my large disinterest. Sorry, Eric, they were nice posters… Point being that moving out of the apartment in which I’d lived for two years took about, eh, ten hours. Most of these were spent hunting the rogue and enormous dust bunnies that you only find in brick Chicago apartments (they are to Chicago what roaches are to New York).
I beat that soundly today, when it took a mere three hours to pack up and move house. In addition, some of this time was spent watching Firefly and inexplicably cleaning out my gmail inbox. Actual time spent packing things up: approx. 1.5 hours. I hired The Man with the Van for 1 hour (the minimum) and had him on his way within a half hour.
I don’t own much stuff.
I have, however, bought a baking sheet, a baking dish (for pumpkin, obviously), and eight spice jars. I am especially excited about the spice jars. They are so cute and orderly. How can I be so organized in the kitchen, while the rest of the house is covered in unopened mail and other sundry bits of paper?
My mother’s birthday package finally arrived today. Insidious kettle corn is apparently the reason why it took over two and a half months to arrive. I made that poor woman spend 33 dollars on shipping to send me black beans in a can. They really should have had more kids - spread out the crazy.
I have an actual story to tell. I’ll put it in another post.
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