Sunday, June 11, 2006

Because They Won't Pack Themselves

Am I done packing yet? Of course not. But! It's getting close. Tomorrow I'm going to do laundry and pack some more and spend time on the phone figuring out phone, internet, and cable services; if there's time, I'm also going to stop and get the keys to the new place. I really need to get done, or nearly done, tomorrow, because at least two days this week I'm not going to get home until later (I'm watering a friend's garden). I really don't want to have to come home from a 9-plus-hour-day shlepping croissant dough and then pack more shit. One of the advantages of my current job (and, believe me, I've been looking for them lately) is that I don't need to wear office clothes to work (i.e., I can pack nearly all my clothes) and I can more or less feed myself at work with day-old stuff (i.e., I can pack most of the food and dishes and such). Thanks to That Brazen Tart, I got a lot done today: she came by and kept me company (and brought some chocolate caramels with lime zest and fleur de sel, which I am not sharing with anyone), which meant I couldn't pack a couple of boxes and then slack, and then pack a few more, then slack some more--basically, I just kept at it, albeit wandering aimlessly occasionally. As a result, the kitchen is nearly done. I even kept up the momentum for a few boxes' worth after she left, but hunger finally forced me to quit.

I went to a yoga class this morning, for the first time in two weeks, in part because my hamstrings were throbbing in pain when I woke up this morning. I must, must, must do more yoga; I can also feel pain in my wrists and hands on a regular basis. Here's the best news, though: On Thursday after work I went to the YMCA that's a block from the bakery and asked whether there were any handball players around. A staff member took me to the courts (a rather labyrinthine route) and there were a couple of guys there--they offered to teach me to play until I explained I already KNEW how to play, I just needed a new place. There are people there on Tuesday and Thursday, they said, and I should just come on by. I'm very excited--handball is on the list of things to do after I move, for sure. I've been missing it terribly lately.

The chef who got me the job at the bakery came in on Saturday to drop off some pate de fruit for Jefe and to pick up some gibassier (a delicious little treat that's flavored with ground fennel and orange water and candied oranges--it totally rocks). Going to talk to him about my plans is also one of the next orders of business when the move is complete.

I realized today that this move feels so difficult because the last time I moved, it was only within this building. It was a pain for other reasons: Basically, I was switching apartments with someone who wanted a one-bedroom (we live in a two-bedroom), plus Dave was moving in with stuff from his mother's (where he'd been living) and from a storage locker (where his belongings were living after he and his wife split up). In addition, we agreed to leave the one-bedroom early so they could paint it and also redo the kitchen in our new place; as a result, we shared a teeny, hot, awful studio in the building for two weeks. We had a bunch of my stuff stashed in the new place, though, in one of the bedrooms, which really helped reduce the pain a little, but the studio was hellish. Nevertheless, I was only moving up four floors, and I was able to do some of that before the move date. I moved into this building in 1997, I think, so it's really been nine years since I moved in a major way.

The whole thing still feels surreal at times, not to mention sad. But, just as the croissants won't make themselves, the boxes won't pack themselves. I keep in mind Horrible Moves I Have Witnessed Or About Which I Have Heard, and I do not want to join those ranks, so I grab another box and some tape and have at it. Yes, it's true, this is not how I expected to spend the weeks leading up to my first anniversary, but that's the way it goes. The boxes still won't pack themselves, and I know that if I don't pack well, the unpacking will suck even more than it usually does (the boxes also will not unpack themselves). One thing that I think will work out reasonably well is that the new place has a layout that is strikingly similar to the apartments in which I've lived in this building--the dimensions of the rooms are almost exactly what the dimensions of this apartment are (though the new place only has one bedroom, it's larger than the bedroom I now occupy). This place is built-in glass-fronted cabinets next to the dining room window, which is where my dishes went; the new place doesn't have those, and has somewhat less counter and cabinet space, so that might be a challenge. On the other hand, the new place has a lot of closet space--two in the bedroom, one in the living room, one in the entry-way, and what is essentially a large built-in dresser (shelves and a lot of drawers). There's carpet in the bedroom, without which I could do, but the rest of the place is hardwood floors, so I'm hoping to carve out a little space in the living room for yoga--if I really can get my act together, I may even be able to use the half hour I'll save on commuting to do some yoga a couple of mornings a week. Don't hold your breath on that one, but you never know.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Larry Jones said...

You're a goddamn inspiration. Seriously, the theme from "Rocky" should be playing all over the city by the time you are done with this.

11:33 PM  
Anonymous Lisa Marie said...

I agree with Larry. You've been in my thoughts.

Some friends wish you lived here (Columbia, MO) -- so they could get a gluten-free bakery! Once you do, you should certainly set up a website for shipping to Out-in-the-Boonies.

8:59 AM  
Blogger kStyle said...

I third Larry!

Here's a witticism from "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me" this weekend, of which your apartment description made me think:

Q: How do you identify gay Republicans?

A: Their homes have enormous closets.

(Another answer, which thought even funnier: They're the ones beating themselves up in parking lots.)

1:35 PM  

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