Right now we're getting ready to move. Not right NOW, now I'm typing with a parrot on my shoulder (last and final name, pantoufle), which by the way said his first word today, which was "hello", sounding nothing like the sweet kind of sing-songy parrot voice that I had imagined him using, but more like a Mexican bandito. I think that may be the longest sentence ever written.
Anyhoo.
I'm really not a big fan of moving, ironic, I know. Once I went through every move I'd ever done and it took me 45 minutes to go through the list. Seriously. I don't like moving and yet here I am again, this time not even quite sure where I'm going. I'll need to have that nailed down by Friday I suppose.
Anyhoo.
So we're packing, and one of the first rules of moving is do not buy anything that will need to be packed up and moved, before you move. This includes food. So the first two weeks are fine, lots of chips and crackers and cheese. Big containers of dip from Costco. There's a bottle of Scotch that needs to be worked on, not really enough to justify moving it, but too much to dump. That sort of thing. By the last week though, it gets rough.
Right now it's some artichoke tapanade, a can of beans, some relish. Lingonberry jam, a can of Fresca, some salt and a freezer full of Boca Burgers. Now, I'm allergic to soy so that limits my choices a bit.
So. Here I sit, chowing down on my jar of relish, thinking I'm getting really tired of all this...not being stable. My goal is to make it nine months with out moving, which is one month longer than I've made it the past three years. Place your bets, ladies and germs.
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