I hate moving. I don’t know if I ever mentioned that, but I truly, honestly do. It makes me tired and cranky and generally induces a state of blah. More importantly, I barely have time to blog.
I’ve spent the past few days ransacking every nook and cranny of my house, stuffing crap into boxes. All of it in preparation for tomorrow and that critical moment, judgement day, the arrival of….the realtor. I’ve discovered a bunch of junk that I didn’t even know that I had, stuff that I can’t believe that I have and stuff that I sincerely hope I never paid money for.
Memory is a strange thing. Take Pooch, for example. Once, when she was a tiny pup, many years ago, my mum squirted her while watering the flowers. Now she keeps at arms-length whenever I water them. That she remembers, but every summer she eats a bee.
Other than stirring up philosophies on memory, moving makes my brain stop working at crucial times. Last night I tried calling a friend of mine several times, only to get a busy-signal every time. Eventually I discovered that I’d been calling my own cell phone number. Seriously, if you actually use your cell phone to call your own cell phone, you shouldn’t just get a busy signal. There should be some sort of machine to make fun of you for that.
13 comments:
Dogs eating bees always makes me laugh?
Will she be able to get her bee fix at the new place?
Wow. I must be in a constant state of moving, then, as calling my own phone number sounds completely like me.
Good luck with it all! I can't wait to read the details of this adventure, after it happens.
I would call myself but I'm not on my friends list.
Well at least you don't move too often. Then you brain would die.
Moving sucks so bad. We may be moving to a new house this fall, and i dread the packing, and the eventual unpacking.
I somehow managed to forward all my calls to some guy I had JUST started talking to the night before. I was freaking out and my old roommate was laughing his ass off and I had to explain it to the guy. It's a wonder he even bothered to call after that.
That's hilarious about your dog's selective memory.
schmoozers often talk to themselves, don't let it bother you...and it's BunnyMan damnit
There is a law that states no matter how much bigger the place you move into, you'll fill it up with junk within a very short amount of time. The next move will just mean moving even more stuff.
I hate packing. I can never figure out how to fit my gazillion things in a suitcase or box.
I wish you all the luck with your moving. May everything go as smoothly and as hassle-free as possible. ;p
The only 2 reasons I can think of hating moving are this: 1)packing
2)unpacking
;o))
listen you are wasting packing crap in boxes and further more, that's disgusting. just pack your clothes and stuff, leave the crap or bury it in the backyard. there is no need to move poop, unless it's on you.
don't ask how i know that, it's a long story and yada yada yada, i'm not allowed in the state of kansas anymore...
Ticknart - may I come over and watch you eat bees and laugh? When my dog does it, she just shreeks and hides under the table.
Jocelyn - I usually don't call myself, because I don't know my own number.
Hammer - I'm on mine. It's the only way I can remember my phonenumber.
Jazz - and wouldn't that be a tragedy, indeed.
Evil spock - Every time it's time to move again, I still have stuff that's not unpacked from the last move...
Freak magnet - hehe, yeah I would have laughed at you too. Probably pointed, as well:P
Rhea - yeah, it is. As long as it doesn't get her killed some day:D
Tom - Bunnyboy, bunnyboy, bunnyboy:P
Big brother - my new place is smaller... It'll probably explode, then...
Irene - thankyouverymuch. I don't have enough boxes, I figured. It's kinda like that circus act where you try to stuff a million clowns into a volkswagon...
Jillie - ME TOO!
Furiousball - okay, I'll just leave the crap in the garden. It's mainly the dogs doing anyways.
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