The movers came today to box up our (read: Spike's) household goods. Honestly, it was not that bad! I suppose after moving seven times in as many years (if you count college dorm rooms, which I do), I guess any move in which other people pack your stuff is good. And to give these movers their due, they were pleasant and efficient. I was afraid that their presence would cut my productivity by at least two-thirds, but no...they thoughtfully left my office till last, at which point I moved my laptop onto a box and plopped down cross-legged in front of it...and I haven't moved since. And honestly, I think I was unusually productive today. Go figure.
Spike oversaw the packing and picked up a couple pizzas for the movers to eat for lunch (smart, that...), and he also fed them Halloween candy and the cookies I made on Sunday.
So now, each room is a mini-maze of boxes. I worked in my college's art gallery all four years to earn food/fun/gas/clothes/car payment money, and based on that experience I am sure that if I had more vision I could turn these box piles into some sort sculpture that provides a revealing/scathing/tragic look at modern life...but...I stuck with studying luxury arts of the Middle Ages for a reason. So, simple piles of boxes they shall remain. Until tomorrow, that is, when the movers cart them away and leave Spike and I with an air mattress, some suitcases, and the frying pan and kitchen utensils I carefully laid aside.
In all honesty, my still-short lists of military "firsts" hasn't been all that bad. First night with Spike away, first medical appointment, (part of the) first move...none were as bad as I expected. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Hopefully the wheels don't fall off of the truck when we drive up to Kansas on Friday.
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