A brush with mortality, and a view of immortality...

I AM NEVER MOVING AGAIN.

Just wanted to say that aloud-- it's been running through my head so frequently since July 15th. It makes me feel better, you know? (This is the brush-with-mortality part-- the part where I realize just how close I was to dying of exhaustion, or at least wishing I was dead so I could rest.)

a) The movers, two elementary school teachers and one of their alumni students about to be a senior in HS, were very cheap and very polite. However, they were not very efficient in terms of packing the 26' Uhaul, so they had to do two trips. Thus, our day began at 7am (they arrived at 9:30am) and we got to bed in the new place at 2am (the movers left at 11:30pm).

b) My honey-bunny is wonderfully astute about many things, but he didn't notice just how much stuff he'd been acquiring over the eight years since his last move. Thus, his moving/packing philosophy ("Oh, I'm not letting the movers do that, I'll just put a few things in the car and make a few trips") was not really up to the task.

c) We ended up renting another Uhaul truck (14') and hiring the movers *again* for Thursday of last week. And we filled that truck, with all the things honey-bun ended up deciding to let the movers move, plus all the enormous houseplants we both collect.

d) I took last week off to unpack. I lost some weight, let me tell you. I'm thrilled with the weight loss, thrilled with the new house, and hoping I can find a way to keep it up.

e) We still are not unpacked entirely-- new carpet installation and built-in bookshelves getting built in, sometime in August. So the housewarming BBQ and pool party will be in September.

So, I'm back at work, rested up and ready for this weekend (we'll play Chinese firedrill with the garage and get it sorted out and cleaned up.)

Now what's the view of immortality, you ask? A few posts ago I mentioned my high school friend Brian's suicide, and part of my recollection of Brian was that he witnessed me forgetting my date Kevin Artl's name. Of course, who Googles their name and finds my reference? Kevin Artl! So he's immortal, and we're back in touch, and my shame expands apparently infinitely :)

Anyway, work is good, the house is good, and life carries on. If it ever stops raining, maybe I'll get some swimming in.