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The Empackening, part 1
Apr. 23rd, 2022 07:37 pmI got up before 0600, had two cups of tea instead of the usual one, and started packing. Well, actually, first I dismantled my loft bed, which every woman I've dated despises. No one shall ever assemble it again, not least because I'm pretty sure I got rid of the instructions. The bed is currently right outside my apartment. Gosh, I've got to dispose of it somehow.
What am I going to sleep on tonight? My sleeping bag on top of an insulating mat. Burning Man gear for the win, baby.
But I'm declaring victory over the living room: everything that was in it is packed, including the contents of the capacious 1950s built-in cabinets but excluding my houseplants. I packed about half the kitchen, including the time- and paper-consuming glassware. I have nine (9) cubic feet of shoes and especially booootz.
I've packed my non-work laptop. I've packed most of my dishes. Tomorrow I'll be packing most of my clothes. Can I stand a week of frumpiness? We'll see.
The weather has been gorgeous today, and I missed it. I got my revenge, though, by eating deli dinner outdoors and walking up Phinney Ridge for a beer, a chocolate, and Duolingo in the sun. Those are some mighty fine stickers on the trash cans.
I got an email from a techno crew that I've heard of saying that I'm on the guest list for tonight at the Monkey Loft. There's a local DJ I like, Pezzner, headlining. Ah hah. Ah hahahah. It is so not happening for me. It's all I can do to go downstairs to fetch my sleeping bag.
Honestly, I'm astounded at how much stuff I've managed to pack into the little Devil Girl Pad. Yeah, I know I've had nearly ten years to do that, but even so. This apartment is... not large.
And from the Dept. of Things Working Out: I had a pair of patent(ish?) platform fetishy boots that are a little too small and that I wasn't sure about taking with me. When I tried to separate them for packing, some of the vinyl adhered to the other boot. (Was it last summer's heat wave?) Anyway, those boots were suddenly so damaged that wearing them again was not an option.
What am I going to sleep on tonight? My sleeping bag on top of an insulating mat. Burning Man gear for the win, baby.
But I'm declaring victory over the living room: everything that was in it is packed, including the contents of the capacious 1950s built-in cabinets but excluding my houseplants. I packed about half the kitchen, including the time- and paper-consuming glassware. I have nine (9) cubic feet of shoes and especially booootz.
I've packed my non-work laptop. I've packed most of my dishes. Tomorrow I'll be packing most of my clothes. Can I stand a week of frumpiness? We'll see.
The weather has been gorgeous today, and I missed it. I got my revenge, though, by eating deli dinner outdoors and walking up Phinney Ridge for a beer, a chocolate, and Duolingo in the sun. Those are some mighty fine stickers on the trash cans.
I got an email from a techno crew that I've heard of saying that I'm on the guest list for tonight at the Monkey Loft. There's a local DJ I like, Pezzner, headlining. Ah hah. Ah hahahah. It is so not happening for me. It's all I can do to go downstairs to fetch my sleeping bag.
Honestly, I'm astounded at how much stuff I've managed to pack into the little Devil Girl Pad. Yeah, I know I've had nearly ten years to do that, but even so. This apartment is... not large.
And from the Dept. of Things Working Out: I had a pair of patent(ish?) platform fetishy boots that are a little too small and that I wasn't sure about taking with me. When I tried to separate them for packing, some of the vinyl adhered to the other boot. (Was it last summer's heat wave?) Anyway, those boots were suddenly so damaged that wearing them again was not an option.
