Thursday, April 23, 2009

It's official

All of my crap is now in Mr. B's house. Every last scrap. The best part is that I'm not even there to watch; Mr. B graciously volunteered his vacation time to supervise the movers. I'll get home tonight and voilĂ ! There it will be. Fin.

Even though I've been living there for two months, completing this final stage still feels like A Big Deal. After all, it's been over thirty years since I moved in with a boy. It means something; something significant. I'm sure as hell not moving again for a long, long time, so it's looking like I'm committed to this thing.

Scary, no?


  1. Why congratulations!! I go out of town for a few days and look what happens! : ) And in answer to your comment today ... no I cannot imagine my right arm moving AT ALL the way my left one had to on the zip line. Ugh!


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