perfidy

Unpacking is, I now believe, more draining than packing. When you're packing, things go in boxes. While you can make some effort to ensure that like things end up in the same box, the end result is a constant and familiar. Fill a box til it's full, tape it shut, repeat. There is also the reassuring feeling of progress as you see the ever larger pile of boxes. You can look at the pile of boxes and say, "Look at all that shit I packed!"

The reverse is more daunting. You might think it'd be something like a grand scale Christmas, but you'd be wrong. You open a box. What's in this one? Kitchen stuff. But you opened it in the wrong place. Move the box to the kitchen. Then you've got a pile of boxes and you have to figure out where that stuff goes. You get more boxes, and despite all the stuff you've put away, there are still boxes. And since you've put all the other stuff away, you can't see it and you don't feel like you (or in my case, your wife) have accomplished anything at all.

Then there's the stuff that breaks in the move. I have a nifty correspondance desk that was hand made by my step-grandfather. It is, I discovered, rather fragile, as one of the feet broke when it was unloaded. So, I went to my local hardware store, and got the 4" screws I needed to reattach the foot more strongly than the original wood glue. I got out the drill, drilled the pilot holes, and reattached the foot. I felt all handy and competent. So, I flipped the desk so that the weight of the desk would help the wood glue I also applied set better.

And the leg snapped.

Tonight I get to attach new hoses to the washing machine, and reassemble the table that didn't have any nuts or washers. It didn't have nuts or washers because in an apparent fit of insanity, I did not screw them back onto the table legs after I disassembled it. Instead, I carefully packed them into a ziploc bag, and then lost the bag.

At least I've got high speed internet.