Revelations Part I

This is moving week, and it's been a week of moving revelations. Not to mean revelations that are moving, there's nothing at all touching to be found in this process.

I detest moving. Twice in just over three months, never again. And I mean it. Please remind me of this week if I ever mention moving again. If it doesn't work, hit me over the head with something heavy, preferably an item I never got around to find a proper place for in our small apartment.

I hate styrofoam, and styrofoam hates me. Hours that should have been spent unpacking tonight were instead spent vacuuming up and picking off those annoying bits that fly everywhere when you try to break it up into smaller pieces for the garbage. Please explain how styrofoam found its way under my clothes, as I found the case to be a short time ago when getting ready for bed. The stuff is evil.

I'm shorter than I thought I was. Or they're making kitchen cupboards taller. In any case, I can't reach many of them in my new kitchen. Why did I not notice this before committing? It must have been those beautiful Corian counters, true love blinded me. It's happened before, apparently I'm a slow learner.

Cheesies (which to my delight were discovered to be gluten-free by my daughter last week) make a perfectly sensible dinner all on their own. My new home, new rules.

Trust a new vacuum cleaner, it doesn't lie.

It's okay to enjoy the eye candy that was my telephone and internet installer tonight. Good Lord, I'd forgotten that sometimes men come in arrestingly adorable packages after the age of twenty five. Who am I kidding? Have I forgotten that I watched a Bradley Cooper movie the other night? Just his dimples alone can put a silly grin on my face.

I like to believe that I can think outside of the box. That's what I'd like to do right now, think everything I own outside of its box. Channelling Endora, Samantha and Tabitha, and proving how old I am at the same time.

There was a time that I loved to map out room dimensions and furniture sizes/placement onto graph paper. Not so much anymore. Furniture lands where it lands on Saturday and I'll deal with it then. In our wildest dreams there's no way to squish half the contents of a four bedroom plus finished basement house into a one bedroom apartment. And I'm no hoarder, it's just the detritus of almost fifty years, a photography business and the raising of one terrific daughter who LOVES books (who starts her second year of university tomorrow!) Stay tuned for the sale and givewaways folks. It's gonna be big and it's gonna hurt. Whatever photo equipment I'd said I could never part with when you offered to buy it, it's time to ask me again.

No matter how lovely the kitchen, there's just no hiding a DNR that has to hang on the fridge. Which by the way isn't magnetic on the front as I tonight discovered, it's stainless steel that is just pretending. What is this world coming to?

I've just realized that I forgot to ask the telephone installer how to access my voicemail. Or he forgot to tell me, in which case he's completely forgiven. Adorableness gives him a free pass. Completely unlike me to let a detail like that slide for several hours, however it's been a very unusual day.

Here's one of my fun coincidences. The Cancer Society volunteer who drove me to the hospital today turns out to have lived in my new building when it was first built almost forty years ago. Which should tell you that I'm likely the only one calling it a new building these days; it and I are not far apart in vintage. And he experienced something today with me that was a first for him in his over eighty years. Get your minds out of the gutter (but I am curious to know what you're guessing) :-)