Moving Debbie and Tracy

posted at 11:01 am
on Jul. 27, 2003

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You might find this kind of funny, but I sat down a few minutes ago to write this journal, but I forgot to actually write.  I just thought about what I’d write for at least ten minutes, and then went to quit this program and realized that there wasn’t actually any words there.

That’s worrying.

I helped my friends Debbie and Tracy move this weekend.  They had a two-level, two bedroom condo-style apartment, and they are moving into a one-bedroom bedroom.  As in, one room in Debbie’s parents’ house.

So we had to put an awful lot of things into a small storage unit.  The day was hot, but there were six of us, so the work went fairly fast.  Debbie and Tracy have some things that are not, strictly speaking, necessities.  Like a moped that doesn’t run.  And three couches.  And two chainsaws.

On the other hand, they didn’t have a piano, or 1,500 books, or kids, or an elevator.  So it could have been worse.

In fact, helping them move was good in many ways.  It was like a workout.  It left me feeling virtuous.  It gave me an excuse to do sweet nothing for the rest of the weekend.  It built up karma points for my bid to come back as a Hilton twin.  And, most importantly, it was the type of casual, semi-spontaneous activity that I like so much.

After the move, we invited everyone back to our place.  We played in the pool.  A friend stopped by out of the blue—she thought that we’d invited her to a party then instead of a week later.  We ended up ordering Chinese food, and then everyone wandered out.  All in all, very laid back, no plans really being made, but everyone feeling very comfortable and relaxed.  Excellent.

Coming soon: pictures from Paris.

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Previous entry:
15 Short Minutes

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A Riot?