fflo | (no subject)

We thought of somebody else for the deepest hell: sub-prime lenders. Like the title loan people who give high risk people money with their cars as collaterol (I'm sure that's not spelled right, but f. it) with lousy terms and a high chance of repossession.

So. It's past 3 a.m. the night before the moving truck comes. As you can tell, we haven't packed the computer---but we can always do that after they leave and bring it ourselves the next day (cleaning day). May come to that, too, as we still have to put the secretary stuff in a box or two, bubble wrap its glass doors, take removable shelves off bookcases and gather their bracket-y things in some organized way, pack about 3 more boxes of long low bookcase items, take the table in the kitchen apart, re-label the 10 or so boxes still in the storage room and separate out empties therein, and pack up as much of the rest of the kitchen stuff as we can. Oh, plus pack a buncha things in the living room trunk. We still have quite a number of carry-'em-ourselves items in the storage bathroom.

Chet and I will probably be locked in the bathroom while the Two Men load the Truck. Or at least I'll go hang out with him some. Like to sit with him some during these traumatic situations.

We arranged most of the stuff already at the new place today so's to accomodate big furniture items as well as possible. The bulk of what's over there is in the basement---which is about half full. {Astounding to have so much stuff. Paring it down means going through old family boxes, and that ain't easy.} You should know,

pijeanf, that the new Snow Cone machine is in a deliberately accessible spot.

Gonna try to catch some z's now. (That's old skool for "sleep," you young'uns!) (hardy - har)