esterday was moving day again. You know how it goes: almost all the cardboard boxes are gone, you've started to feel settled, and then it hits you: Everything's in the wrong place. The bed is right where the morning sun will hit you in the eye at 5 AM. You'll never be able to mount the dresser on the mirror, because it's under a window. (You know - the one the sun comes in in the morning.) You put the desks in the wrong offices.
Moving a four-poster bed is fun. It's easy. We didn't even have to take it
entirely to pieces. (Might have been faster if we did.)
The piano quite clearly belongs in the other corner. That corner over there, with the particle board bookshelves, that weigh about 400 lbs. And have about two hundred DVDs and CDs on them, plus several shelf feet of music. But that's where the piano obviously belongs. You just have to move it past the armchair. Not sure where the armchair is going to go while you're doing that, but no big deal, you have to get it out of the way anyway. How else will you get that desk downstairs? And the other one upstairs?
And the stairs take us to the basement: (The fire pole project being temporarily on hold.) Ah, the basement. There are actual storage shelves down there. Just have to be able to get to them past the boxes of tools. (While you're sorting that out, keep an eye open for the one labeled "Do not Crush." It's the vaguely trapezoidal one.)
But I have a dream! Some day I'll get this just the way I want it...
Did I say yesterday was moving day? I lied. Every day is moving day until I get this crap sorted.
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