Good grief, indeed! It looks like this post is going to try to cover an
eventful two-and-a-half weeks; there's no way I can do it justice.
tl;dr: Our Stuff arrived two weeks ago, I flew down and got the Honda and
more Stuff, and we're gradually getting unpacked and settled in. I still
don't have a job, or even any interviews scheduled, so I've decided to
offer dinner at the Herb Farm to anyone who finds me one.
And now a few highlights.
The movers arrived on Wednesday, having had another stop along the way
because our 17,000+ pounds of stuff only filled about 2/3 of their
big-rig. Props to Billy, who managed to get the rig parked next to our
entrance, which the apartment office staff had assured me was next to
impossible. Billy and Pam were the husband-and-wife team of drivers; I
can't praise them, United Van Lines, Chipman Relocation, and the loading
and unloading teams too highly. A very smooth, painless, hassle-free
... that left us with an apartment full of boxes, of course. We
still have more Stuff than space, even after paring down a
lot and storing almost half of it in N's garage. Well, we knew the
job was impossible when we took it.
Speaking of jobs: I got my rejection from EnergySavvy, so I now have
nothing on the schedule because the move totally ate my brain. I have
until the end of September before my severance pay runs out.
I do not like it, Sam-I-Am.
Two weeks ago (Monday the 30th), something finally clicked in my head, and
the apartment felt like home. I was in the kitchen; I knew where
everything was, it was small and comfortable and convenient, and I felt
like I belonged here. It's still scary, but only because of the job
problem, not the move. I like it here.
I discovered something else about myself: I like giving stuff away to
people who will give it a good home. More than like it -- it's
*wonderful*. I'd been talking with Nathan, the guy who owns the painting
service that did such a good job on the interior. I'd been referred to
him because he's in a Christian group with Liz. Anyway, the conversation
turned to music, and the instruments we play, and he asked about the
beat-up old mandolin in the "what the heck do I do with this?"
pile by the garage door. And then the balalaika, which I'd bought on a
whim in high school and never learned to play.
I ended up giving them to him. I felt both relief in simplifying them out
of my life, and joy -- mudita, actually -- in seeing how happy the gift
made him. A very middle-sized-bear thing, I think. And I realized that
this was one of the things that was making the move an enjoyable experience.
I also realized how much I enjoy traveling by myself.
One reason I haven't been posting has been the difficulty of connecting to
the fileserver from outside the firewall; I think I've finally fixed most
of that, but also copied my emacs-based posting client onto the netbook.
We'll see how that works in a few minutes...
Loads of links in the notes, of course.
( raw notes )