It's official
I'm now officially tired of moving. I've been moving boxes and furniture every weekend (and several weeknights) for a month, and I've got one more to go.
Today my feet are killing me. Last night I could hardly stand on them by midnight. It was actually painful to stand in the shower and I could hardly wait to collapse into bed.
This whole move thing has not been aided by the wonderful timing of my dad selling his house at the same time, since this subsequently meant I had to move several decades of accumulated stuff out of his attic too.
Luckily, I've had some help. Velma's helped numerous times packing and moving boxes and furniture, plus she took on the burden of making several trips to Goodwill and the Computer Recycling Center. Not to mention that she helped sort and move stuff from my dad's attic not once but on two Saturdays.
Jason's helped on one trip to The City -- his truck full of my books -- a fact which he will remind me of at every opportunity for the next ten years. And Dave helped for about an hour yesterday, but he's promised to help all afternoon this coming Saturday. And Jessica helped muscle furniture up the stairwell a couple weeks ago with Velma. And Willhelm brought a truckload of stuff up too.
Now I have to convince Peter D. that he can work of at least a couple of the 100 or so favors he owes me if he comes to help on Saturday for the last of it...
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