Dear readers, there is a 16-foot moving truck parked outside my house. I drove it there, though I had a little help with parking. And it is filled with a very shallow layer consisting of all of my things, pretty much. (Why, then, a 16-footer? Ah, good question, and certainly one I asked when I arrived at the place and found that's what they thought I'd reserved. But they gave me the price I'd been quoted for the smaller truck, and I actually don't have to drive the thing on highways, so I'll take it.)
I am going up this weekend and moving all my stuff! And then I am camping in the living room of my old apartment and finishing up my job! And then it is time to GO HOME AND MAKE THE PASTA! (For the picnic.) I am really excited.
Yesterday was my "exit interview" at my job. It was, of course, also the day I found out I might need to represent someone at a hearing at my very last day on the job, but whatever.
It was also the day that the new, further-down-state-street, enhanced-with-beer-garden version of my favorite bar opened. And then it poured rain, and then the wall started leaking, and then the new incarnation of my favorite bar closed, and dumped us unceremoniously out into the street to go to Felicia's instead. Speaking of which, I should probably call my coworker (who lives in the same building, directly above the leaking wall, and who sent me a text late last night saying "200 gallons of water just came through my ceiling, and it is about to collapse") and tell him my apartment is free for the weekend.
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It's hard to believe you're actually leaving Ithaca and moving to the city! But I'm very excited for you, and look forward to seeing you in Boston before long!
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