I'm usually the master of moving. I have a van, and I have a lot of friends and relatives who seem to tear up root every six months or so. The thing is, this time, I blew it. It's not that moving is a problem. I'll move any time. Lift, insert, drive, watch the corner there, no that's on my foot, over here, there we go. Easy as pie. The real issue at hand is packing.
Oh, packing, how I hate you so. I hate packing so much that I haven't unpacked some of the things that I packed away when I left the Neaves Road house in the year 2000. Even when I spent over three years at the Colourful House, I did not unpack fully because of my extreme, crushing dread of packing.
Over the past week, Scott storrowed my giant stereo, which goes really nicely with the red couch he storrowed the day I made the last couch run with the girls.
Ian and Rachel agreed to storrow my records and my nine foot restaurant booth. I went downtown and got a half-price storage space for my stuff (it's nice to know someone whose dad owns a storage space), and last weekend Ian and I moved all my remaining furniture into there.
Piece of cake, right? Nothing left after that but...
Oh yes, packing.
Packing is the bane of my very existence. I had a mental block about it. In fact, I ended up not even obtaining boxes, even the night before I had to be out. Our agreement said we had to be out at noon on the last. At the stroke of midnight, I found myself frantically emailing work people to tell them there was no way I was coming in. I wound up just scooping everything up and putting it into my van. I called Evan and he came down to help me bomb it all into the space. 14 agonizing hours of moving later (from 4 a.m. to 6 p.m., so yeah, I wasn't out on time), the deed was done, and we had to go play on the radio at U.B.C. as members of the Isotopes. The radio was fun enough but I was totally bagged. Fortunately, at the station, I met a reader of this here weblog who offered me a place to stay for free for two weeks in June. It pays to put your entire life on the internet.
The solarium is very comfortable though, and the vibe in this here house is amazing. The futon mattresses I borrowed don't fit though. We call it the taco.