(no subject)
Oct. 1st, 2004 05:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cabbitzilla'm too tired to make this look like a ship's log. Reformat it in your minds if it's important to you.
With the exception of one double cabinet next to the sink, and the sealed foodstuffs stacked atop the microwave, the kitchen is cleaned out. Granted, it still looks like it needs a sandblast scouring, but it's packed out. One load of totes of dishes/pots/pans is already at the apartment, empty and run through the dishwasher. Another load will be going over today, freeing more totes for reuse. 90% of the bulk/dry foods we had have been discarded; I flatly refuse to take even paranoid suspicion of bugs with me, and anything that's not sealed is suspect. A gentleman with a U-Haul truck is scheduled to be here Sunday; beds, dressers, clothes, remaining end tables, and anything else we can cram into it are going to the apartment.
If that goes according to plan, we'll be officially living out of the apartment by Sunday night.. and I can break out the blasting caps and bulldozer to pack out the residue. A nice plan, yes, but I worry.
*exhale* And in other news, I've discovered why I've been ever more exhausted and bleak as the last two weeks have progressed... and the discovery featured the news that it was, indeed, all my fault. You see, there're these little containers called pill bottles, and they contain medicines that the stupid cabbit is supposed to be taking; namely, antidepressants and thyroid meds. *pounds head on desk* Well, I suppose if anyone's curious how much effect they have, we all now have the answer. :p Hopefully, in a week or so, I'll be in better shape; it'll take at -least- that long for the Lamictal to build back to operating levels in my bloodstream, and probably as long for the Synthroid. Joy. Rapture. Ecstasy.
Megan and I had a long talk earlier, mostly to clear the air and hash out the differences in priorities that keep erupting. Given that the bulk of the moving load is falling on me, she is now very aware that she needs to cooperate (at best) or stay the hell out of my gun sights (at a minimum)... right at the moment, her priority needs to be locking down a job.
I've watched mayhem engulf a half dozen folk that are precious and dear to me, and have been trying to bolster the affected individuals as much as I can. Never give up, darlings. The rest of my personal philosophy is 'rather warlike', I'm told, featuring bits like 'never let them see the blow coming', and 'better an honest enemy than a false friend'. *shrugs* I'll make no apologies for it; most know it up front and opted to remain anyway.
And that's from here. Of to the races.
With the exception of one double cabinet next to the sink, and the sealed foodstuffs stacked atop the microwave, the kitchen is cleaned out. Granted, it still looks like it needs a sandblast scouring, but it's packed out. One load of totes of dishes/pots/pans is already at the apartment, empty and run through the dishwasher. Another load will be going over today, freeing more totes for reuse. 90% of the bulk/dry foods we had have been discarded; I flatly refuse to take even paranoid suspicion of bugs with me, and anything that's not sealed is suspect. A gentleman with a U-Haul truck is scheduled to be here Sunday; beds, dressers, clothes, remaining end tables, and anything else we can cram into it are going to the apartment.
If that goes according to plan, we'll be officially living out of the apartment by Sunday night.. and I can break out the blasting caps and bulldozer to pack out the residue. A nice plan, yes, but I worry.
The best plans never survive the first engagement with the enemy.
Shin'a'in proverb.
Shin'a'in proverb.
*exhale* And in other news, I've discovered why I've been ever more exhausted and bleak as the last two weeks have progressed... and the discovery featured the news that it was, indeed, all my fault. You see, there're these little containers called pill bottles, and they contain medicines that the stupid cabbit is supposed to be taking; namely, antidepressants and thyroid meds. *pounds head on desk* Well, I suppose if anyone's curious how much effect they have, we all now have the answer. :p Hopefully, in a week or so, I'll be in better shape; it'll take at -least- that long for the Lamictal to build back to operating levels in my bloodstream, and probably as long for the Synthroid. Joy. Rapture. Ecstasy.
Megan and I had a long talk earlier, mostly to clear the air and hash out the differences in priorities that keep erupting. Given that the bulk of the moving load is falling on me, she is now very aware that she needs to cooperate (at best) or stay the hell out of my gun sights (at a minimum)... right at the moment, her priority needs to be locking down a job.
I've watched mayhem engulf a half dozen folk that are precious and dear to me, and have been trying to bolster the affected individuals as much as I can. Never give up, darlings. The rest of my personal philosophy is 'rather warlike', I'm told, featuring bits like 'never let them see the blow coming', and 'better an honest enemy than a false friend'. *shrugs* I'll make no apologies for it; most know it up front and opted to remain anyway.
And that's from here. Of to the races.
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no subject
Date: 2004-10-01 10:16 pm (UTC)*hugs back*
no subject
Date: 2004-10-01 10:50 pm (UTC)I suspect that out of my friends, you'd be one of the most likely to understand. I get strange looks when the subject comes up.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-01 11:11 pm (UTC)*smiles back*