So Friday was a very long day. I packed pretty much from 10 in the morning straight through to 12:30 at night, with breaks to purchase moving supplies at the local hardware store and to help a woman who got my desk through twincitiesfreemarket.org transport my desk down into her car. There was 7 to 9 inches of snow on the ground and for most of the time that day that I was outside, the snow blowers hadn't been through. The woman brought her children, ages 3 to 7, along and they kept trying to touch the exposed nails on the desk or play in the snow outside and the younger one didn't quite have that whole not running out into the street thing mastered. By 8 that night I was exhausted, and getting everything packed in time felt like an impossible proposition--why is it that it always feels that way when you're close?--but I made myself keep going. I woke up out of stress at 6 am, the movers came at 8, and I finished closing all of the boxes as the movers were bringing my stuff out. This whole move has been characterized by everything getting done, miraculously, at the very last possible moment. It's not the way I'd like it to have happened; it's certainly one of the more stressful ways for things to happen; but given the short notice I've received on most of the elements of the move, it was pretty much the inevitable way things would happen.
The movers were an gnarled older man and a guy about my age. I made the older man very happy by giving him 12 jam jars. It's a good feeling to make kind near-strangers very happy.
Being done with the move felt fantabulous. It was wonderful to walk through a sunny, white universe to the post office to get my mail forwarded and then to Keys diner, where I ate eggs benedict (vegetarian, with fresh spinach) for the first time in my life, with that burden off my shoulders. Elizabeth, Stephen, and Matt P. showed up later that day to help me clean the apartment. And now I'm in Northfield. Yay! It's sad that very soon I won't be able to come down here, but right now it just feels good to be here.
The movers were an gnarled older man and a guy about my age. I made the older man very happy by giving him 12 jam jars. It's a good feeling to make kind near-strangers very happy.
Being done with the move felt fantabulous. It was wonderful to walk through a sunny, white universe to the post office to get my mail forwarded and then to Keys diner, where I ate eggs benedict (vegetarian, with fresh spinach) for the first time in my life, with that burden off my shoulders. Elizabeth, Stephen, and Matt P. showed up later that day to help me clean the apartment. And now I'm in Northfield. Yay! It's sad that very soon I won't be able to come down here, but right now it just feels good to be here.