Moving is a bitch

But it's got to be done, and I'm almost done with the worst part of it--the boxing up of items. I'm at that point in the job where I know I'm going to get to Florida, open up a box and ask myself, "Why the hell did I even pack that?" It'll get tossed in a drawer or a closet and will still be there when I move the next time, because there's always a next time.

I packed my amulet today--a can of blueberry pie filling that I inherited about 8 years ago when I moved out of the frat house and in with Heath, a cook at the Mexican restaurant where I worked as a waiter/bartender. He'd apparently gotten it from Dave, his former roommate, who'd just left to go into the Army. Who knows how long this stuff has actually been in the can, but it lasted through another Louisiana apartment, two Arkansas apartments, one in San Francisco and is now coming to Florida, where I plan to place it in the exact same space it has inhabited for the last two years--atop the refrigerator. If I ever have a fire, I may go back into the burning building to save my blueberry pie filling. it's been good to me, after all.

I got some more pictures developed yesterday--if I have time tomorrow, I'll post a couple of them. Some great ones of the new Juan Marichal statue outside SBC Park.

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