Two weeks until Happy Fun Times, or possibly Nothing At All. No sites this week, as the doctor is doing more convention-ing. I mentioned my worries about my sensory strip to her. Depending on what we do (and possibly how much my brain has shifted), I might experience the same thing as last time, or nothing at all. We'll see.
Moving In Progress
In the meantime, it's time for allllll the stress. Moving is a process of systematically dismantling your life, putting it into sterile little boxes, carting those boxes around to a new place that doesn't feel like home, and then trying to remantle it into something resembling your life again.
When I was little, we moved every few years. This wasn't really on purpose, or a fact of my parents' jobs. It's just how things turned out. So I've lived in 5 states, as of this writing. Those moves, between states, were much easier than this. I had only a few boxes of possessions, almost no furniture, and the bulk of the moving was done by professional movers.
This move, there were no movers. No evenly sized abundance of boxes. There were shelves, tables, chairs, bed, and futon. Those are all very heavy, especially up two flights of stairs. Chris, naturally, took up the brunt of the burden in many cases, but much of the heavy things had to be done by two people. So I did a lot of lying around uselessly when we weren't packing. Watching my home of four years being dismantled, the first home I'd made for myself, was (and is) destroying my ability to get things done.
It's not just the stress of your home being dismantled around you. It's more normal things, like not having my computer available to do work, or put my music on. I could try to type things on my tablet, or play things from there, but the sound system and keyboard are terrible by comparison. I have to be able to type fast enough to keep up with my thoughts, and I can't on a virtual keyboard. I'm pretty sure my handwriting got worse and worse as I aged, not because I didn't practice it, but because I couldn't keep up with my thoughts while taking notes in school. My handwriting is all but illegible now. I took notes in college on my laptop partly for that reason.
So now I'm trying to write in the new place, but while watching one of my favorite movies. That's probably detracting from my focus, but it's definitely adding to my comfort. Between the stench of paint, the unfamiliar carpeting, and the chilliness of the apartment, I need the extra help. My computer is here, but I'm actually only here to get the packages that're coming today, to this place.
One of them includes our new chest freezer. All 10.6 gallons of it. I, uh... I'm going to have to do a lot of cooking if I'm going to fill that. But I guess now I have the option to buy half a deer or something. I'm picky about my farmed meat, but other than asking for as clean a death as possible, I'll eat wild game. I'm not really interested in learning how to butcher, so maybe if I'm really lucky, I can get someone to clean and cut it up properly.
I spent most of the day updating addresses. Chris thoughtfully started making a list of places he needed to update to not screw up our billing, rent, and other expenses, so I added mine to the same document. He has 20-some. I only have 12 or so, but it was more than enough to burn a couple hours. Especially trying to cancel my Internet. I swear... Everything else was very polite and easy about updating or canceling my service. Comcast? "Oh no, we can't let you close your account. You have to call us and sit in virtual line for an hour, then listen to us give you tons of crap about quitting."
I'm just fortunate I got a reasonably nice Indian call-center guy. And probably fortunate that I told him I didn't want Internet at my new place. Was sort've a lie, since we already have Internet here. Annoyingly, it's Comcast. I tried finding another company to go with, since I despise Comcast with the vitriol I normally reserve for blatantly arrogant, manipulative, self-righteous assholes. Generally speaking, I try not to hate anyone. Some people make it really hard, though.
Moving In Progress
In the meantime, it's time for allllll the stress. Moving is a process of systematically dismantling your life, putting it into sterile little boxes, carting those boxes around to a new place that doesn't feel like home, and then trying to remantle it into something resembling your life again.
When I was little, we moved every few years. This wasn't really on purpose, or a fact of my parents' jobs. It's just how things turned out. So I've lived in 5 states, as of this writing. Those moves, between states, were much easier than this. I had only a few boxes of possessions, almost no furniture, and the bulk of the moving was done by professional movers.
This move, there were no movers. No evenly sized abundance of boxes. There were shelves, tables, chairs, bed, and futon. Those are all very heavy, especially up two flights of stairs. Chris, naturally, took up the brunt of the burden in many cases, but much of the heavy things had to be done by two people. So I did a lot of lying around uselessly when we weren't packing. Watching my home of four years being dismantled, the first home I'd made for myself, was (and is) destroying my ability to get things done.
It's not just the stress of your home being dismantled around you. It's more normal things, like not having my computer available to do work, or put my music on. I could try to type things on my tablet, or play things from there, but the sound system and keyboard are terrible by comparison. I have to be able to type fast enough to keep up with my thoughts, and I can't on a virtual keyboard. I'm pretty sure my handwriting got worse and worse as I aged, not because I didn't practice it, but because I couldn't keep up with my thoughts while taking notes in school. My handwriting is all but illegible now. I took notes in college on my laptop partly for that reason.
So now I'm trying to write in the new place, but while watching one of my favorite movies. That's probably detracting from my focus, but it's definitely adding to my comfort. Between the stench of paint, the unfamiliar carpeting, and the chilliness of the apartment, I need the extra help. My computer is here, but I'm actually only here to get the packages that're coming today, to this place.
One of them includes our new chest freezer. All 10.6 gallons of it. I, uh... I'm going to have to do a lot of cooking if I'm going to fill that. But I guess now I have the option to buy half a deer or something. I'm picky about my farmed meat, but other than asking for as clean a death as possible, I'll eat wild game. I'm not really interested in learning how to butcher, so maybe if I'm really lucky, I can get someone to clean and cut it up properly.
I spent most of the day updating addresses. Chris thoughtfully started making a list of places he needed to update to not screw up our billing, rent, and other expenses, so I added mine to the same document. He has 20-some. I only have 12 or so, but it was more than enough to burn a couple hours. Especially trying to cancel my Internet. I swear... Everything else was very polite and easy about updating or canceling my service. Comcast? "Oh no, we can't let you close your account. You have to call us and sit in virtual line for an hour, then listen to us give you tons of crap about quitting."
I'm just fortunate I got a reasonably nice Indian call-center guy. And probably fortunate that I told him I didn't want Internet at my new place. Was sort've a lie, since we already have Internet here. Annoyingly, it's Comcast. I tried finding another company to go with, since I despise Comcast with the vitriol I normally reserve for blatantly arrogant, manipulative, self-righteous assholes. Generally speaking, I try not to hate anyone. Some people make it really hard, though.
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