My friends will be relieved to hear that I've hired a truck and muscle-y movers to get all my crap from point A to point B. I was getting all worried about how heavy I was packing the boxes, and then I counted the ones that contain books, and divided that number by the ages of the people on the moving crew, and I decided that if any of us get injured over the holidays, it should be because we were trying to do the Shasha Fierce to Single Ladies, and not because we were carrying boxes from one side of town to the other.But that means that everything has to be packed and ready to go by Saturday morning. If I work really hard and stay away from the intertubes, I can still take two days off to be with kith and kin at the Christmas Family Compound.
Brother Butch is coming, and we've plans to spike the cider with Apple Jack.
photo, Nina Leen, December 1948, Life Images.
1 comment:
If you hold tryouts for the Single Ladies dance, let me know. I've got the hand flip down, but I have to build up endurance.
Post a Comment