Novelty Carriage Rides

I can summarize my opinion of moving in two letters: oy. It's a connundrum; no matter how much I plan, or how much time I think I have, or how many people that come to help, there never seems to be enough time to move. And when I say "move", I mean pack, transport, clean, and unpack. Preferably in that order. Moving: oy.

Makal just left for his first day of work at a new job; he's an "ambassador" at a funeral home. Hehehe, fabulous isn't it? Unfortunately we had alarm clock issues and he got out the door late, but we were able to get him fully dressed and equiped in those few minutes before leaving. Our space may look amazingly chaotic, piled with boxes and, as we ran out of boxes, paper bags, but my ability to know where each piece was is a testament of the conceptualized organization of the move. I mean, his shoes were in a box upstairs, his shirt in a drawer downstairs, belt in a drawer, tie in a suitcase, jacket on a hanger, and morning vitamins in a shoebox. Sounds all ass-backwards, doesn't it? Looking around it feels backwards, but I know that deep down under all that tape and newsprint are some well packed items—and I know exactly where to find them.

Last night we did the cleaning portion of the moving. Until 3a. Yes, three o'clock in the morning. And Makal had to work at 9a (poor guy). So, he and I are both exhausted, though I'm inclined to say he's more exhausted because he did more physical labour than me. The old place looks sparkling though; I'm pretty sure some of that scrubbing was on years' worth of grime—not just what we contributed. The only exception was the kitchen cupboards, more specifically the lower cabinet doors. We're pretty sure the only thing that can save them from a grimey existence in sandpaper and a fresh coat of paint. ("I'm pretty sure these cupboards used to be white!" I said, noting their very cream/ivory colouration.) The day before, Saturday, was our main moving day, as we had the help of Makal's dad, his van, and another friend. Without them I'm pretty sure it would not have been finished in the timeframe we had. Since there were so many guys helping, they got to lug about heavy boxes and pieces of furniture as I continuously packed, unpacked, and kept track of the cats. By the end of the day Makal was dead tired; the post title comes from his random mumblings that pass for conversation before bed. ;) He sometimes says very amusing things but I generally forget them (being half asleep myself) so I'm glad I remembered that one.

I think the cramped space is getting to the cats finally. As I put it yesterday, they've had some pretty good spats. Not the pants, the fighting. No wait, spats are those shoe-cover thingies, not pants. :P (Yes, all that is what I said. Out loud.) Despite that, I think they're also having a blast. They have all this view of a completely new outside, and while things are still packed there's all sorts of levels to jump to and precariously positioned boxes to climb over. I type just before yelling at one of them for obviously wondering if he can jump to that *really tall* shelf over the dresser...

Right, so unpacking. I am the appointed organizor and decorator of this new space, so really I should be working on doing that. We have... a lot of stuff. Both Makal and our friend that helped would sometimes just stop in the middle of a room, loor around, and exclaim, "[You/We] have so much stuff!" It is true; we do. Now I need to figure out where to put it all. I have several hours of quiet alone time; let's see how much use I can make of it.