This isn't an ordinary house-move coming up for me. It's an escape. Sweet, sweet escape. Details:
- The bulk of my possessions have been loaded into a trailer and shipped off to my new location! (The pseudonym 'Balltown' got a distinctly lukewarm reception; I'm pondering upgrades.) If only I didn't have to clean the daylights out of my old place to get back my deposit, I'd already be halfway there. But, since I do have to clean the daylights out of my old place, I won't get to ship out myself until Sunday morning.
- I'm already sick to death of the stupid prepared foods in my fridge that I've been eating since I packed up all of my china and utensils. It's going to be a while before I get a craving for hummus.
- Once again, I am homeless (on the internet). I surrendered my modem to the cable company and closed my account, so I am now dependent on cafés with wifi. It's odd to have greater internet access on my telephone than on my computer. It's also odd that the patron with the most inane and irritating things to say also seems unacquainted with the concept of "inside voice."
- I am constantly dehydrated, since it's motherfucking 8,000 degrees and I have been hauling and cleaning all day. It's probably not helping that I'm determined to finish off the bottle of tequila, rather than pour it down the drain. (I know no one around here who favors tequila, or else I'd have given it away.)
- Seriously, it's hotter than the devil's nutsack. I want to lodge a formal complaint about this. Weather should never be hotter than 87 degrees. And I fucking despise moving in the summertime. This might actually be the worst thing about being an academic — even worse than not getting paid in summer.
- I think I will actually have to use a toothbrush to scrub grout in my shower. Crap.
- To end this post on an up note, I get to crash at Fie Upon This Quiet Life's house the night before I move in! Chez Fie, I do believe, will be far superior to some scary-ass roadside motel along my dismal route. There really isn't a single place where I even want to stop my car between Ghosttown and The City Formerly Dubbed Balltown. TCFDB will be my destination on Sunday, come hell or high water.
LOL. The City Formerly Dubbed Balltown. haha. When I mentioned you were coming to town on my latest blog post, I said, "One thing I do know is that we're having a very special house guest on Sunday -- Dr. Koshary -- who is couch surfing at my house for a night before he moves out yonder on Monday." Perhaps "Out-Yonderville" would work as a pseudonym. Since you're not quite in the city, and you're not quite in tiny-town, you're really (what the locals would call) out yonder.
ReplyDeleteSee? It's only a shade better than Ghosttown. But it's better than nothing.
P.S. Just get some Tylex and spray the shit out of your shower grout. It'll bleach just about anything white.
ReplyDeleteUse straight-up bleach.
ReplyDeleteGodspeed!
Full disclosure, I'm drunk as hell writing this, but you, Fie and I need to get together for some drinking debauchery this Fall (ask her where I live). That would be really cool.
ReplyDeleteI approve of this idea! (And, for the record, I am slightly tipsy and very tired as I write this.)
DeleteSpanish Prof - I'm sober writing this, and I agree. I'll be there in November for sure. Maybe you can come see us too!
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely... We should plan for something this Fall in your turf.
ReplyDeleteOof, right there with you. Hot as Hades here, too. We leave on Saturday, so safe travels to us all, right? I second the Tilex recommendation. Just leave it reasonably undirty, and you'll be ok.
ReplyDelete