The never-agains are starting to come thick and fast. I realized already that I may have eaten at our favorite Greek restaurant, Aliada, for the last time. But just now I realized that I will never again buy a 30-day MetroCard.
The cicadas have arrived in Chicago! I'm relieved, because I was a little worried about how we would eat when we get there.
Bill the Piano Mover was quick and efficient, but it was still a sad morning: Treat her well, Zach!
So █████ and I spent last weekend in Chicago. Saturday was a long, long day of looking at apartments, some of which were very tempting and which we had to reluctantly conclude were not right for us. The most tempting of them all was a giant four-bedroom apartment on the second
It must be a year now since we moved from our old place. Last week we received a whole mess of holiday cards, automatically forwarded from our old address, from folks who apparently didn't get the memo about our change of address. Today, though, I got word from
...include: * 20% of the stuff takes 80% of the time to pack. (Corollary: 20% of the stuff takes 80% of the time to unpack.) * If it's valuable and you don't pack it yourself, it may not turn up at the other end. * It's never
And we're back on the air, broadcasting from our new location....
Moving day = tomorrow This is also why I'm wearing my favorite black-and-white paisley shirt with ratty old jeans and giant clodhopping duck boots. Everything else is packed away in boxes. I'm getting over a cold and I'm exhausted, but I was cheered to see
Speaking of which, the basement disaster has made █████ and me feel better about the fact that we have to move before the middle of January. Yes, the landlord managed to sell the house for right around his megabuck target. Bully for him, you know? Twelve days on the market—the
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