Ass deep in boxes and worry

God, really, I cannot find any statement too hyberbolic for how much I freaking hate moving. I’d take the McCain POW tour over it, I think. Maybe that’s only because I really like pho ga and Vietnamese spring roles.

This morning’s fun was rushing up the Peninsula from our old apartment in order to greet the cable guy. Despite getting up at 7:30 a.m. or so (and tossing and turning in anticipation of getting up at 7:30 a.m. or so), I rolled in about 15 minutes after the guy with the truck and the coax cable got there. As of about 9 a.m. we had HD, high-speed internet and landline. At least I think we had two of them, I forgot to bring a phone and the HD television at about 49 inches huge is going in the big old moving truck with the professionals.

If all goes well, we’ll be in our new den whilst I gnaw at my cuticles and nails and we both watch the Super Bowl of event for news junkies. After we vote down here, our last vital act in the old neighborhood.

After lining a few shelves and vacuuming everywhere furniture will be showing up tomorrow, I came back to the apartment in the pouring, driving rain. Just the kind of storm to get the weather folks of Northern California jumping on threats and exaggeration laughable to the rest of the country. RAIN, THUNDER AND LIGHTENING, OH MY.

We walked around in the rain and grabbed some lunch. I was wearing new sandals that are supposedly custom-fitted to my feet, which took me far, far, far, far longer to receive than the promised two weeks when I decided to give them a shot during the SF Marathon (M. ran, I slept in our hotel room).

Maybe it was the dirty puddle I accidentally stepped in or maybe it was something in the custom orthotics. Either way, I looked down as M. laughed at me to some kind of mystery sudsing.

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With dreams of the foot-based mystery I’m off to retire to worried, fitful, neurotic rest. The only good I can say that I am currently feeling — thank god the clocks are rolling back an hour.

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One thought on “Ass deep in boxes and worry

  1. evad

    seee i just knew you were a lil liar
    how can you be fat if you can still see your toes

    come and try sandles in the UK
    them there lil pnkies would be banished to the land of frostbite in a day
    check ronnie woods in the ugg boots
    evad

    Reply

Talk with me. Please.

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