Eseme's Den

Moving is like an abyss, but without cookies. Hence the icon.

Moving sucks. The current game plan:

I work today. I may get a few more boxes packed. This is my last day of work.

Monday I pack. I madly pack. All must be packed.

Tuesday Dad acquires a U-Haul trailer. And we load it up with the stuff here in Maine. This includes some furniture which I either bough from the L.L. Bean employee store, or was handed down from my parents or grandparents.

Wednesday Dad and I drive to Small Town, New York. I'm not saying where that is in a public post- do not tell the internet where you are. We unload the trailer as fast as we can and try and drive to Syracuse by 8:00 or 9:00 PM to sleep.

Thursday we drive from Syracuse to Buffalo and all my stuff in storage. We work very hard to get it all packed up, so that I don't have to pay for another day of storage (this would be the 31st of January). Then we drive to Rochester to get stuff from the Panther's closet. He will now have a closet again. Then we go to a hotel and sleep.

Friday- well, we might end up getting stuff from the Panther on this day, depending on how loading the U-Haul went the day before. We then drive back to Small Town. We unload as much as we can. I would love to return the trailer to U-Haul on this day, so we pay for one less day of use. That may or may not work out.

Saturday we either keep unloading the trailer, or start arraigning my apartment. By this point it will be a sea of boxes and unassembled futons. Dad will have to leave sometime around 1:00 PM as he has an early-morning appointment in Massachusetts on Sunday. This is when I would have liked Time Warner to show up and turn on my cable and internet, but they don't do house calls on weekends (so I've decided to give them less money in return for less service).

Sunday I will try and listen to the Superbowl on the radio while I unpack. My parents are Patriots fans, living in Maine and all. My mom is a bigger fan than I knew- Dad bought her a Patriots sweatshirt and she wears it while she watches games. I find that a little alarming... Anyway, this really matters to her, so I want to know what's going on. I'd rather not go to a sports bar or something deep in Giants country and root for the Patriots. Sounds hazardous to my life. Besides, this way I can unpack at the same time!

I start work Monday.

People reading this in Rochester or Buffalo might think: "Hey, she'll be in town. We could have dinner with her or something." That's a great thought. But I'll be insanely busy, and will likely be moving stuff until after dinnertime, then sleeping and getting up at hours my father considers morning and I really don't. Plus all this fun will be happening at the worst possible time of the month for me to be doing heavy lifting. So I'll be frazzled, snippy, and possibly screaming at times. Plus, we might not even have time, given the schedule we will be working on. Sorry!

I hope to make it to Rochester for SimCon, but I may not have any vacation time then, so I can't be sure at this point. I do know I will have a small housewarming party later in February, consisting of me and lissa_dora. Hey, I said small! This will be kind of odd for me.

I don't get visitors. When I lived at RIT, I had people other than me in my apartment about twice in the year I lived there. When I lived in my first off-campus apartment I had visitors more often, but tended to weird them out by being a hostess. I'd try and have nice food and stuff to do- for them it wasn't an occasion but it was for me since no one ever came in my place and saw my stuff. But I had people other than me in my apartment maybe ten times out of that year.

Visitors were common at Frank and Suzzanne's place, but they were generally in the public areas of the house, not my little room. I dated a viking who turned out to be smarmy- he saw my room but almost no one else did. I had no visitors while I lived in Buffalo at all, with the exception of one weekend when the Panther came and by then the apartment was such a mess that he was kind of alarmed. "Can't move, stuff might eat me." Well yes, but when you live in a place where no one else has been for over a year, you get in the habit of leaving piles of stuff lying about because it is easier than cleaning up and no one else will see. And since I was only in that Buffalo apartment for about half the week anyway, I wasn't really living there myself.

So, a new apartment, and a visitor who has never seen any of my belongings. My inner hostess is channeling Martha Stewart and trying to decorate, thinking about what china I have and do I have wine glasses, planning some sort of menu, and trying to make me nervous a month in advance. I'm trying to shove her in a box. We'll see if that works. Someday I'd really like people dropping by to be a normal thing as opposed to an occasion.