Sorry I've been distracted, but I've been shipping off all kinds of goodies to New Orleans and my life has been an absolute whirl of packing tape and cartons and pissed off kitties who do not appreciate change, not one bit.
I have known for months and months that I would be sending all the furniture and knick knacks I've bought here so of course that meant I completely ignored packing until the night before the movers came calling to load up the Pod when I burst into a frenzy of relocation.
Have you heard of the wonders of the Pod? The company drops off a shipping container in your driveway, you stuff it full of your flotsam, and they pick it back up to ship it off to your destination. It's possible flying monkeys are involved.
Part of the thrill of dealing with the company is announcing that "the pod people are coming on Wednesday," which sounds a lot like the vilains from some cheesy 50's sci-fi flick are dropping by for drinks and a couple of hands of bridge.
Naturally, I have spent the last few days since the pod left bumping into things I meant to ship off in it. Books. Linens. Speakers. Cats that refuse to stop pissing in the corner because they're mad that I shipped the bed I thought of as mine but turns out it's "ours." Stuff.
