I just had the movingest week ever, and by “moving” I mean picking stuff up and transporting it to another location.
Last week we did the heavy lifting to help Mookee to his new condo. Piano, bed, couch, boxes, running machine, etc. Yes, running machine… The kind usually found in a gym. I’ll miss the *thud thud thud* over my head. At least I won’t have to worry that my ceiling will collapse.
On Friday and Saturday we finished what will hopefully be the last in a vast series on internal office moves to get everyone’s location in alignment with the corporate reorganization that started at the beginning of the year. The hardest part about the reorg was moving everyone around. While it was only 27 people this time, it spanned three floors and took almost twice as long.
Then today I helped more friends move to a new apartment. I thought the worst part of today’s move would be hauling two people’s stuff up to the third level in a San Francisco Victorian era building but no, it was the insane envy and jealousy I experienced when I saw the view. The bastards (and I mean that in only the nicest of ways) have a view of about a quarter of San Francisco. The only thing I’ve ever wanted out of my living experience out here was a nice view and it’s the one thing I’ve never had for myself.
So now I’m tired, sore and beat. In fact I involuntarily fell asleep mid-sentence in this article. If I didn’t have to do several things today before going to bed (and no, they can’t wait till tomorrow) I’d be dead to the world till tomorrow.
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