We packed up CGBC today. It took eight hours, and we are leaving Monday morning. This is what it is like to move people. I, on the other hand, and a nimble little bugger, capable of packing myself off to any which place I choose in a fortnight. CGBC, however, has had notice for two months. Possibly more.
Today, he got about 80% done, and it took every ounce of strength that Job had. You see, Job is an excellent worker, and he was dissasembling furniturre and prodding the wagging visage of CGBC with his cyber-psycho powers in order to get anything done.
At one point, it was CGBC's firm intention to wash the dishes that would be thrown in a dumpster immediately upon his exiting Berkeley. Chez Fatoo de Guy, is in full effect as of 5 AM Monday morning. I think he fairly deserves it.
Moving people sucks. Moving me sucks too, but only for me, I like to think. When I moved into my current residence, I had everything in barring a bed and some shelves. Two truck trips, they took. The matress sucked, but the Aged P and I got it in there eventually. The V ninja hates moving. Despite there being only a set of stairs between her and the new residence, she took significantly longer than I. Of course, I moved whilst reasonably unemployed. At the same time as her move, the V ninja was offing adverdemons during the day, and at night she was chasing the firey visage of a one-time wet nurse of V I Lenin.
She found the wet-nurse, but she was dead, and the discovery left her shuffling madly to cover her tracks and avoid suspicion.
The odessy begins on Monday.
Oh, and my respect of many modern day techno/rap/whathave you musicians has gone waaaaaaaaaaaay down after seeing this.
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