(You know, except for the exhaustion and aches and pains.)

We are mostly in the house now. Beds are here, bathing happens here, eating happens here (though no actual cooking yet since most of the cookware and many of the ingredients are over there still). Boxes? Here. Shelving? Here.

Vacuum cleaner? Over there, awaiting us getting enough more stuff out of the apartment to make it ready for that last pass. Flowerpots? Over there, and we’re still debating where the heck they’re going once they make it here.

And not a day’s rest in three weeks. But we’re still extremely happy to be here, and not there.

Are we ready? Maybe not, but we’re trying to get there. By day’s end tomorrow, if all goes well, we should be (mostly) moved into the new place.

But for now, I have to shut down and unplug everything to prepare for the movers, who arrive about 24 hours from now as I write this (right around 9 o’clock).

See you from the new digs soon, I hope!

I got home (apartment) from the house (we move next week) after a couple exhausting hours spent assembling furniture (living room TV stand & shelving). I told the lovely Vyx that I’m out of oomph. I’m oomph-free. You could call me Oomph-free Bogart.

Silence.

“No?” I asked.

“No.”

“Not gonna dignify that one with a response?”

“I know better.”

“Aw, I love you too!”

I am a delight, as you can plainly see.

Here we are at March of 2024, heralded this morning in suburban Portland Oregon by… snowfall? Well, kind of. It “slushed” for about an hour. This month I turn 50-something, but I don’t even care about that because the main focus is getting moved out of the apartment and into the house.

I got the Internet stuff all working, including network drops in the other two places in the house which need them and WiFi coverage for the rest. We’re bringing over stuff one or two bags or armloads at a time, the stuff we don’t want The Movers touching. And they’re due in a bit under two weeks. Yesterday I told the apartment’s management that we’re on our way out (they get the keys back at the end of the lease, mind you).

We’ve done so much work, and there’s a mountain yet to do, which has left me almost no time for much fun at all. Not even Satisfactory! (Well, not much.)

I hope this is all worth it in the long run, because woof, I’m exhausted already.

Moving is exhausting. I’m glad I only do it only about once per decade or so now, instead of every few months like in my childhood.

And that’s why it’s been so quiet around here. If I’m not working, I’m either doing something related to the move (like filling boxes and wrangling utilities) or trying to get some downtime in (gaming, reading, watching shows, “vegging out” in one fashion or another). This week’s move-related activity? Getting the actual movers scheduled, because no way are we hauling beds and bookshelves and a couch and all those boxes of books and shiny platters from apartment to house all on our own. (Even if it is very close by.) Nor is there enough pizza in the world to bribe the local friends we have available to do so. Money is the answer, so money I shall spend.

We still have weeks yet to go on this stuff, so… bear with me. Hopefully there’ll be more fun on offer once we’re in place and at least somewhat unpacked.

I didn’t want to say anything here when we put in the application, because we might have been passed over. I didn’t want to say anything until the lease was signed because something could still have gone wrong. Now that the property management company has a bucketload of my money, however, and I’ve started arranging utilities and whatnot, I guess I can say:

We’re moving into a house some time in the next month or so!

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