What a shitty day to be moving.
The rain’s been incessant, not good for a car with bad wipers.
“When are you going to get new blades?” Blake asked.
“I’m getting some for Christmas.”
“You know they’re only like five bucks, right?”
I took the day off work and so did Blake, and we went to town on
moving out. Room by room we packed up boxes, loaded them into our cars, and
sped off to our new place in Norwood. We signed the lease and handed the
landlord a fat wad of cash. We kinda felt like drug dealers. Or at least I did.
We worked from 10 AM to 7:30 PM, and we were feeling pretty beat afterwards.
The house had been gutted, top-to-bottom, with only the major furniture and
appliances remaining (and countless loads of junk accumulated from us and the
previous seven tenants). Mandy, Andy, Brandy and Ams came over for our last
night in the Claypole House: lots of laughter, NBA Jam, and reliving those old
winter nights of last year before Rob and Mandy moved to Portland, before the
Claypole House began to tear apart at the seams. Damned nostalgia.
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