Yay! (and a moving update)
Aug. 26th, 2005 07:41 am*smacks spam filter* Silly thing, you're not supposed to eat things from Livejournal.
azhure bought me two months of paid LJ time! What a nice surprise to wake up to today (she did it yesterday, but my spam filter decided to be silly and snag the email from LJ). Thank you thank you thank you thank you! This is so cool, I missed my icons! :)
The garbage truck in the alley out back woke me up (7:10 on my day off, thanks SO much!) so I decided to go ahead and get up. I can take a nap later, but I will not miss that. I have an ever-growing list of things I will not miss about the apartment. Like the stairs. We've started packing, finally, and we keep having to rethink how we're packing heavy stuff, like Mom's glassware, because someone has to not only be able to carry it, but carry it downstairs without hurting themselves. That someone won't be me- I'm not going to be much good during this part of the move, unfortunatly. I haven't been able to navigate the stairs without a free hand for the railing since my eye surgery. The depth preception- or lack thereof- is just too wonky. I've always had that, or not had it, I suppose I should say, but since the surgery it's been more difficult on the stairs, somehow. Keep meaning to ask my eye doc about that, but there were always more pressing issues, or more important questions. And then it was such a relief to not have to go back to the doctor's every couple weeks, or every other month, to have them check things out again... I didn't want to think about asking any questions I didn't have to ask.
Anyway, the glassware is ending up in a couple smaller boxes, of which we have not very many right now. Mom keeps snagging them from the stockroom at work, but some of her coworkers are moving too, or have relatives who are moving, and they work closer to the stockroom than Mom does. So... she can't always get the good boxes.
I've been going through old papers and notebooks I found in my desk, and let me tell you, there is some scary stuff in there, that I was quite happy to feed to the paper shredder. I should not have been allowed to attempt poetry or fanfic in my first two years of high school, because I was just dreadful. I did find some stuff I'm keeping for amusement or sentimental value, though- I turned up some really old stuff, including the first short story I wrote that was coherent (ie didn't include illustrations; that would be first grade) which is from 6th grade. Unfortunatly they made us write in cursive in 6th grade, and mine is... not tops, let's say, so one of these years I'll have to see if I can translate it. My handwriting's gotten a lot better since then, thankfully. I'm sure it's dreadful, but that's something I just have to keep.
I also found my 9th grade English journal. My teacher must have thought I was nuts. Well, alright, maybe it's not that bad, but I did talk about writing an episode of Star Trek with one of my friends, and how we wanted to send the script in if we ever finished it. (Voyager, and they did accept submissions back then, even used them once in a while, if they didn't suck. Ours... would have sucked, I'm sure.) I believe his note on that page was something like, "Hmm. Good luck." Yeah, I think that's about all I'd be able to say to me right then, too.
*facepalms*
It just dawned on me I should have packed said English journal with my other journals, and it's sitting on my floor with the other notebooks instead. Duh... Oh well. It's not like I'll need it right away, and I'll pack it with the notebooks, which is the other logical place it'd be. I'm trying really hard not to do what we ended up doing with the last move- We ended up moving in a month with almost no notice, so a lot of our stuff ended up just tossed into whatever box was closest to hand, no matter what else was in it. I started to hate the boxes labelled "Miscellanious". At one point we had about twenty in the dining room, and they got pretty scary. "Hmm... three cookbooks, some canned goods, Tupperware... Would it have killed us to write 'Miscellanious, Kitchen'?"
I don't want to do that again. I want to be able to find stuff. And for Mom to be able to find her stuff. Instead of me finding her stuff, and her finding mine. Ah, good times... well, you know, not really.
I will be so, so glad when this is over.
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The garbage truck in the alley out back woke me up (7:10 on my day off, thanks SO much!) so I decided to go ahead and get up. I can take a nap later, but I will not miss that. I have an ever-growing list of things I will not miss about the apartment. Like the stairs. We've started packing, finally, and we keep having to rethink how we're packing heavy stuff, like Mom's glassware, because someone has to not only be able to carry it, but carry it downstairs without hurting themselves. That someone won't be me- I'm not going to be much good during this part of the move, unfortunatly. I haven't been able to navigate the stairs without a free hand for the railing since my eye surgery. The depth preception- or lack thereof- is just too wonky. I've always had that, or not had it, I suppose I should say, but since the surgery it's been more difficult on the stairs, somehow. Keep meaning to ask my eye doc about that, but there were always more pressing issues, or more important questions. And then it was such a relief to not have to go back to the doctor's every couple weeks, or every other month, to have them check things out again... I didn't want to think about asking any questions I didn't have to ask.
Anyway, the glassware is ending up in a couple smaller boxes, of which we have not very many right now. Mom keeps snagging them from the stockroom at work, but some of her coworkers are moving too, or have relatives who are moving, and they work closer to the stockroom than Mom does. So... she can't always get the good boxes.
I've been going through old papers and notebooks I found in my desk, and let me tell you, there is some scary stuff in there, that I was quite happy to feed to the paper shredder. I should not have been allowed to attempt poetry or fanfic in my first two years of high school, because I was just dreadful. I did find some stuff I'm keeping for amusement or sentimental value, though- I turned up some really old stuff, including the first short story I wrote that was coherent (ie didn't include illustrations; that would be first grade) which is from 6th grade. Unfortunatly they made us write in cursive in 6th grade, and mine is... not tops, let's say, so one of these years I'll have to see if I can translate it. My handwriting's gotten a lot better since then, thankfully. I'm sure it's dreadful, but that's something I just have to keep.
I also found my 9th grade English journal. My teacher must have thought I was nuts. Well, alright, maybe it's not that bad, but I did talk about writing an episode of Star Trek with one of my friends, and how we wanted to send the script in if we ever finished it. (Voyager, and they did accept submissions back then, even used them once in a while, if they didn't suck. Ours... would have sucked, I'm sure.) I believe his note on that page was something like, "Hmm. Good luck." Yeah, I think that's about all I'd be able to say to me right then, too.
*facepalms*
It just dawned on me I should have packed said English journal with my other journals, and it's sitting on my floor with the other notebooks instead. Duh... Oh well. It's not like I'll need it right away, and I'll pack it with the notebooks, which is the other logical place it'd be. I'm trying really hard not to do what we ended up doing with the last move- We ended up moving in a month with almost no notice, so a lot of our stuff ended up just tossed into whatever box was closest to hand, no matter what else was in it. I started to hate the boxes labelled "Miscellanious". At one point we had about twenty in the dining room, and they got pretty scary. "Hmm... three cookbooks, some canned goods, Tupperware... Would it have killed us to write 'Miscellanious, Kitchen'?"
I don't want to do that again. I want to be able to find stuff. And for Mom to be able to find her stuff. Instead of me finding her stuff, and her finding mine. Ah, good times... well, you know, not really.
I will be so, so glad when this is over.