detritus

Finally done. I still need to wash out the fridge and do whatever I can to help Patrick clean and paint, but everything is now finally boxed up and ready for the attic. I went over there at lunch today to label a few things and seal up a handful of boxes and grab my TV. The last few boxes are stuffed with randomness. One box has Sega games, hubcaps, bookends, pens/pencils, and wallets. I can't wait to rediscover that in 2 years and wonder what the hell I was thinking. My pockets for the last four days have been filled with cat toys, picture hangars, screws, scraps of paper; basically anything small that I didn't know what to do with. My room at Mom's is just drowning in STUFF, but I'm making a bit of progress over there, too, unpacking and organizing. So mentally I feel good. One chapter finished, a new one beginning.

But I am so tired and sore! It's a really good thing I managed to lose weight and get somewhat fitter than I was before, because I never would have managed this move otherwise. I must have gone up and down the stairs 500 times in the past two weeks. Maybe more. My knees and hips and back are all just pissed at me. I feel like that scene in the first Indiana Jones movie where Marion asks Indy where DOESN'T it hurt? and he points at his elbow. Except in my case it's more like my eyebrow. My fingers are raw, my feet are sore, my right shoulder blade muscle keeps seizing up and stabbing me, my forearms feel bruised, my lips are chapped, I'm coughing my guts out because I still have a cold, and I can barely keep my eyes open because I'm so tired. Pathetic! But today I felt a little better, since all I did yesterday was work and then an hour or so of packing the office. Maybe tonight I'll unpack my desk/computer stuff. Do another load of laundry. Mild, normal stuff.

And the next time I move, I will hire professionals. And watch from a safe distance.