Update

I found my camera. I haven't found my deoderant, perfume, moisturizer, rings, other comfortable shoe or my cel phone charger yet, but I have found the camera, M's baby clothes, piles of fabric I bought cheap at a warehouse outside Baltimore over a decade ago when I thought I might start sewing again, the pasta machine, with which I have been planning to make goat cheese and wild mushroom ravioli for more than seven years now although I have never yet used the damn thing, and a vitally important box full of small McDonalds type toys, lincoln logs, lego blocks and other stuff that noone has played with for five years. There's an American flag and an LL Bean boot on top of my refrigerator and I'm sleeping on my futon on the floor, which the dogs think is a fine innovation. I didn't shower or brush my teeth for four days and I nearly wept when I actually finally found the soap on Sunday so I could wash my hands.

Now, though, the shower curtain is up, even if it does keep sort of falling down. There are some curtains up even if some of them are duct taped together; there are piles of random stuff everywhere and I called my mother practically in tears yesterday which led to her spending all day in my kitchen, occasionally sighing "Oh, Felicity" in that way that she does but gods bless her, organizing the whole damn thing. The dishwasher leaks and the dogs are tied up in the backyard, since my friend D has still not posted with the damn fence. Granted, there is currently no way to call me: try email.

Tonight I have to go bust my old bed up for firewood. It will not go out of the room. No, we tried and tried but, see, I built that bed. It started as an Ikea bed and then it got moved a couple of times during which, naturally, I lost the special Ikea allen wrenches and the special Swedish bolt and nut thingies and so I just started using my own mad carpentry skillz on it. I am using mad in the British sense here, as in, "She's gone completely mad! Run, run away!" and anyway I kept right on using those carpentry skillz every time the bed collapsed, which was unfortunately not as often as one would hope due to my several years of singledom there, although, given that, was still more often than a bed should really collapse. At those times I would go to Lowes and haul more lumber home and start sawing and nailing and screwing (again, not in the fun way) the whole thing together. Well, what I achieved was Frankenbed, and Frankenbed must die, alas.

Tonight I'm going to go finish junking out the old house because they're taking the giant mountain of trash away tomorrow, or at least I hope they are, although it's not really my problem anymore since I was careful not to leave a forwarding address with any of my old neighbors so they won't be able to lynch me. There are probably 2 or 3 carloads of stuff still at the old house and I doubt I'll get it clean, which means another night or two spent over there scrubbing before it's done.

My whole body aches and I have bruises in places I didn't think could get bruised. I've learned new things about which muscles you use to lift boxes and this is knowledge I could conceivably have done well without. But there's food in the new fridge (also in the old fridge, although I don't think it really qualifies as "food" in the strictest sense of the word anymore) and the recycling people took a mountain of cardboard away and there are a few pieces of artwork up on the walls. The new house is not as cute or as big as the old house. It is just a house, not a love affair and that makes me kind of sad, but on the other hand the shower works and I found the soap.