It’s grey as hell out today, although imagery would lead one to believe that hell has more of a black and red motif going on than anything else. Either way, it’s cloudy. And I didn’t get to bed until late last night and I had Erin wake me up when she had to go to work, so the end result is that there is basically nothing keeping me awake except willpower at this point. Having some internet problems that I can’t really deal with while Erin is working, but that’s okay, because I have a lot of things to do that don’t really require that internet horsepower. But it would be nice to not be having problems in the new house, especially in the one area that I was most worried about. Well, I have books to read and boxes to unpack and work to do for now anyways, and then when Erin gets off work I can ruin some Comcast rep’s life.
First blog post from the new house! There’s still a lot of packing and unpacking to do, so much work. It doesn’t help that our health is in various states of disrepair. Erin’s got a hurt back from moving, Trent is….well, Trent, and my bronchitis is either flaring up again or is simply agitated by the amount of inhaled dust that comes with a move, especially when you’re not the cleanest of dudes, which I can freely admit. But, most of the important stuff, most of the big stuff has all been moved, and so I’m approaching the rest of the move at a sort of self-paced clip. I’ll head on back to the old place when it’s convenient and grab a couple carloads of things while also packing up some big boxes that I can have someone with a truck help me move from point A to point B. So that’s that, now you’re all caught up on my life. I’m gonna keep coughing over here.
I used to sing a lot. Sang on the way to work sometimes. Sang on the way home from work most of the time. Sang at karaoke nights at bars, sang while playing Rock Band or Karaoke Revolution or Singstar. Most people said I was good at it. Some other people who were actually involved in making music at least some of the time said I was flat (yeah, I remember). And I probably am, what with my weird sinuses and whatnot. But I used to love singing. I do it every once in a while now, when the house is empty save for me and I can crank up the music. Now in the new house, I won’t really be able to get that time. So maybe it’s time I start loading up a portable music player with some music and get away from the houses of the neighborhood a bit. Or it’s time that I start inviting people over to play Rock Band again. But I think I’d like to shake the rust off of my singing voice.
When I look at my room, I think, good God, this is going to take forever and a day to pack. But then I think of it in terms of boxes. How many of the boxes that we have left is it going to take to put all of these things away. Answer? Probably less than 10. And when I think of it that way, I know that if I wanted to, I could spend the rest of tonight just shoveling crap into empty boxes until there was nothing left. But I do want to take a little more care than that if I can avoid it. (Not going to lie, replace boxes with garbage bags and that’s pretty much how I handled the move into this apartment.) So, with just under a month of time to finalize the move out of this apartment, I’ve decided to take a more relaxed approach, not get stressed about it, and just make sure that I don’t let it go longer than it ought to go.
Still a lot to do. The living room is mostly packed up, with boxes towering against the walls and now in the middle of the room. Took the couch I bought a decade ago and put it out on the patio: it’s dead. Moving that old piece of furniture made my allergies go berzerk. But it does make cleaning and packing my bedroom much, much easier. So that’s my plan for today: finish packing up the living room (not much left to do there) and then start doing the heavy cleaning in the bedroom. Once that’s done, that just leaves the closets, and then after the closets, it’s time to deep clean the apartment. When that’s done, we’ll close out the kitchen and then be done with the apartment and the move. When I type it all out like that, it seems so close, but I don’t think that’s the actual reality of the situation whatsoever. Yet, I have to try anyways.
Oh man, moving time is here. I’ve been to the new house, seen it, like it. It’s got its ups and downs, but I’m looking forward to it very much. Now what I’m not looking forward to is packing up everything. I love to unpack. Hell, I love to take things from one place and put them in another. But actually putting things into boxes in order to be transported is, for the most part, fresh hell. But, it has to be done. By my math, I have a month and a few hours to get it all done, so there isn’t really a rush of any sort as long as I pace myself, but I am trying to get the sprinting done now, when I’m not torn between comforts in one location and chores in another. If i can get the big stuff taken care of before I actually move things like furniture and kitchenware and my computer, then the rest should be relatively painless. And painless is good.
Flipping my sleep schedule has maybe never been harder than it has been this week. I’ve settled into a routine that was working for me, but I had social obligation after social obligation, really the only thing that keeps my sleep from being a creature of absolute fluidity, and so the past five or six days have consisted of five or six hours of sleep, functioning on low amounts of rest, and by the time I get home, being alert enough not to be able to fall back asleep. Last “night” was different, where I only got two hours of sleep before heading out to plans made around a month ago. So when I got home, I was planning on trying to stay up and figure out where that put me, but there was a mosquito buzzing around my foot in the living room, and that was all the motivation I needed to close myself up in the bedroom, where I fell asleep nearly immediately to the soothing sounds of a terrible football game.