Remembering Last Time

Two weeks before I even start packing, I’m going a bit stir crazy. With nothing to do but think about moving, I got to thinking about our move here. Here’s an excerpt from that tale:

Shortly after you left us to finish packing, things slowed down. The intense heat and the long hours started catching up with us. We grabbed a bite to eat and kept working, figuring a snail’s pace is still faster than stopping. The hours marched on. Darkness fell. It cooled to a nice 97 degrees outside. Then, my body chose to turn against me. Caren and Jason had to finish packing without me. I tried to help, but I was just in the way – or in the bathroom.

Sometime around 10pm, insanity started gripping Jason. When the moving van was full, but the apartment wasn’t empty – I think his mind snapped. Desperate to finish, He stuck things where ever they’d fit. It didn’t matter what it was.

As the mercury dropped to a breezy 92 degrees around midnight, I started feeling better and began to realize that Jason was muttering to himself and packing garbage.

After several tries, we finally got everything in the moving van except for the futon mattress, our luggage for the trip, and my plants. Those things would have to go in the Element. It was 1:00am.

I was awake, but who knew for how long. Caren wanted to get on the road immediately. I told her it was a bad idea, that we needed food and sleep. She wouldn’t hear of it. She swept the floor and “finished” cleaning while Jason and I went to get Wendy’s (not knowing if I’d ever eat it again) and pow-wowed on how to change her mind. We couldn’t come up with anything. We were too tired.

When we got back to the apartment, we sat down and started eating – and then the electricity went out.

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