Last week I told my mother that I only had about another three hours of packing to do. After an entire week of near-constant packing, I just finished ten minutes ago...and there are STILL some things I could do.
I have cleaned. I have even SCRUBBED. I have thrown out at least twenty bags of garbage, most of them full of crappy old pillows and bedding. I have a box full of carefully-coiled cables, and a big duffel bag for "things I'll need right away," and then a smaller carry-on bag for "things I'll need in the morning," and a box that says "Cat Food and Wine," and more boxes full of feathers, feathers, feathers.
Yesterday I gave the lawyer a cheque so mammoth that I'm surprised I could lift it. Today he gave me a key, which supposedly fits the lock in my new front door. Tomorrow I am beholden to the benevolent condo corporation, and I am responsible for my shrubbery, and I...
...I have a HOME!
I'm packing my modem now, and I'll be back online when Ma Bell deigns to hook me up. See you soon!
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