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I hate moving--packing, hauling, going through the detritis of life seeing what I so pathetically thought was important, so saved, adding to the general chaos, only to find when I have to pack it and haul it that it suddenly isn't important at all. Pretty sad commentary on the packrat side of my nature. Momma always said that it was because we had so little, everything became important. I think I just can't make sound evaluative judgements about material things. I have these wild fantasies about stripping my life down, not quite to the Spartan ideal (Spartans, though flawed, rock), but at least to the William Morris level (anything you have should be useful or beautiful, and whenever possible, a combination thereof). The reality of my life, however, is that anywhere I inhabit tends to have a lot in common with Fibber McGee's closet.

This is relevant because after 11 years in one building, and 5 of those in the same office, I've been moved. This is considered a promotion. I'm in with the rest of Humanities faculty (in concert with my new job), rather than in the Learning Center/ESL area (my old jobs). I'm sharing the office with the new Spanish teacher (Roman Santos) who last week drove cross-country from California with his wife, and 3 children under 5. I can't imagine. Even sharing, my half of this office is bigger than the office I was in alone, so more space, not even counting the 16 ft ceilings. Point the first: better a closet of my own than sharing a mansion with a stranger, no matter how benign the stranger is.

Point the second: I hate moving.

Point the third: Classes started today, and even though this office has been occupied for the last 5 years there is no dial tone on my phone nor his.

Point the fourth: Classes started today, which means I have office hours, in my new office, because the secretaries get all grumpy if you change your schedule/meeting place. I was assigned this office while I was still at Pennsic. I have NO KEY.

Point the fifth: Even though my new office had been occupied for the last 5 years by someone in the Humanities Dept. the Humanities secretaries do not have a key for the office because it "belongs to the business department." So I get to go to the President's office and ask his secretary for the master key so I can unlock my office.

Point the sixth: Because I have no key, the handtruck Morguhn was going to bring home over the weekend to move the accumulated stuff that really is important will be useless, which means it may be weeks before I'm moved. The only thing worse than moving is having your stuff in two different places.

Point the seventh: I'm clearly demented. I figure the indication of what I think is important is what I've already moved over here, to wit:

1: The Russian nesting dolls (7) that Anna Malokova gave me before she returned to Moscow.
2: The box of little notes that Barbara picked up for me in Saudi Arabia
3: The Myanmar key ring Noven Saw gave me.
4: My egg shaped egg timer
5: The pink irridencent heartshaped box I keep my Dark Chocolate Dove Promises in.
6: A Beanie Baby polar bear
7: My Buttercup (Powerpuff Girl) Yes/No/Maybe toy
8: My Playschool Queen (who looks suspiciously like Her Majesty from Snow White).
9: A tiny grey resin dragon.

Point the eighth: Though it's taking me awhile to get used to, and the report isn't in yet on how my carpal sensitive digits feel about it, my new to me Toshiba laptop running XP, office 2003, etc. beats the hell out of a Pentium II running Windows 98Plus! and Office 97. And it was pretty spiffy watching Gladiator on my laptop. The boy has serious laptop envy. Hee hee.

Okay, I'm smiling--good place to stop.


( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Aug. 25th, 2005 10:17 pm (UTC)
Your Grace,

I understand your dislike of having your things in two places. Just keep these in mind:
1. More exercise -- it's good for you (or at least that is what I keep telling myself)


2. At least you don't have to travel across the country to get the rest of your stuff. *grin* (that is much longer a walk than I care to take....)

Miss you!

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )