Moving Is A Double Edged Sword
January 21, 2004
I haven’t moved yet (Dennis). The woman and I are going to pick up the key tomorrow. We have to go visit the apartment to make some measurements. For you see, we have to buy a fridge, possibly a washing machine, and some other junk and we have to know the exact dimensions that can fit down to the micron.
I have to buy curtains.
Let that not slip by as a meaningless statement. Buying curtains has always been a privilege reserved for the mother or maybe even an older sister but I am at a point in my life where I have to buy my own fucking curtains. To top it off, I will be choosing curtains with the woman. Soon I’ll be choosing which rabbit wallpaper to plaster the baby room.
As much as I’m excited about leaving this shit hole I’m in and entering a great apartment, I feel slightly stressed. I’ve always been proud how I don’t stress out easily but I caught myself prancing around like an idiot pointing at stuff that needs to be boxed, stuff that needs to be dismantled, stuff that needs to be thrown out, and stuff that might be alive. I will be making my first of many trips to the apartment to move stuff on Friday. I’m going to try to haul as much stuff as I can via subway and if need be, we’ll have to rent a van or something to finish it off. Actually we’ll probably have to rent a van because there are two bicycles parked outside that belong to us.
I did a mental tally of things I need to buy and I’m going to be running a deficit greater than Quebec’s for the next few months probably. I was just getting to the point where money was being saved too. Crud.
