Comin' at ya from da East end

So the move went well, or as well as moves can go. Nothing broke (except perhaps our sanity at some point between trips five and six). The minivan I’d reserved wasn’t available, so imagine my glee when I ended up with a shiny charcoal grey pickup truck instead – you can take the girl out of Owen Sound but you can’t take the Owen Sound out of the girl (pictures to follow – my camera threw a fit and so the worth-a-thousand-words shot of me behind the wheel is stashed on someone else’s camera). We booted around in the truck for about an hour (singing Bon Jovi of course) before the rain started, which impeded our progress. Eventually everything got moved, and I've spent the past few days unpacking, settling, and keeping an eye on the dog and cat. It’s an odd feeling, being in someone else’s place. To be more precise, it’s odd to be somewhere that until now I’d associated with eating, getting drunk, and falling into a cab (just think of how much cab fare I'm going to save). And the pets seem to be co-existing so far. Tibi is much more interested in Isis than she is in him, though to be fair Isis spends most of her time sleeping. I still cling to the hope that they’ll become best friends and spend their time photogenically curled up together. I'm slowly shaking the feeling of being on vacation, and I've learned how to work the TiVo (it’s now taping every C.S.I., What Not To Wear, and Kids in the Hall it can find – good TiVo). At some point I'll stop basking in the existence of my office and start using it to actually work. Maybe tomorrow.