and the tornado says moo

I keep dancing around this move in terms of what to actually call it. It's a move, yes. A move of location, state of mind, a move forward (hopefully) in life and all that other flowery crap.

I hate thinking about it as an adventure, a journey, a friggin' quest, because that's not me. Never has been, and even if I was shacked up with Indiana Jones at the time, it still wouldn't apply. [Then again, I might be too busy running away from Nazis, generally crazy people and um, doing other things -- to apply a term either.]

I nicknamed this whole shebang Operation: Spotted Owl because it's goofy, and it makes me laugh, and at the time I couldn't think of anything sufficiently Twin Peaks related that fit the bill. [Operation: Log Lady? Or I could've gone with a Twilight ref and been mocked by half the people I know.]

So, Operation: Spotted Owl is off to a start, for realz. I'm 95% moved out of my apartment.* I have to sort through a metric ton of shit -- clothes, necessary living stuff, Me Things that I do want to hang on to.

I've got a huge list on the Non-Domestic side too. Insurance, car stuff, storage, moving vans...maybe I really should just get a spotted owl to move the contents of my life. And for some reason, I start thinking Harry Potter thoughts there, so I'll stop with that line of thinking.

But I'm trying to institute a system -- not a reward system, because at the moment rewards have boiled down to beer and/or oatmeal creme pies -- but a system nonetheless.


I'll set a quota of boxes/whatever I have to get through in a day. Set aside an hour or so to read. Maybe go lay out in the sun so I can stop blinding people. Watch the huge catalog of old movies my sister left behind when she went to Seattle. Make bad jokes with my dad. Weep about the state of my bank account. Chop off one or two of those outstanding headaches like insurance, moving costs/means, putting hexes on my future institution of "higher" learning.

In the end though, it's like being in the center of a storm. I might look like I've got things in hand, a plan to follow, but all I can see are cows flying around in the air and Helen Hunt looking surprised.

Batshit crazy is your word of the day.

I'm shooting to be (functionally) out of my apartment by Thursday. Then there's the thing of moving furniture out, and cleaning, but that can be dealt with.

Then there's the looming issue of sorting (again) through the stuff that's be deposited at my dad's house (things from this apartment plus stuff that's been sitting over there for a while). I have to figure out what to keep for possible later shipping, what to take with me to Tacoma, and what to just cut ties to completely.

Not to mention the ever growing list of things to do... insurance, loans, car stuff, moving van logistics, etc. Oh, and trying to stay somewhat sane.

In short, the white boards aren't cutting it. Time to move on to giant poster boards and toxic makers.

pre-prep for the noble experiment

It's not like today is the first day I've been really working towards this eventual goal, but somehow, today reached REAL ANSWERS...or something.

Got up and swam laps today for the first time in 15 years, so major accomplishment there. Then, after transporting some boxes, I found out that I've been summoned for jury duty in two weeks. Major suckage.

So I didn't really rally so much from that as I indulged in retail therapy. But first I called my top three apartment prospects and found out that calling in early August seems to be the way to go -- silly 60 day notices have gotten me used to a certain way of doing things. So that part of this looks to be on hold -- hopefully not generating even more hysteria on the other end -- and so now I get to focus on other stuff.

That other stuff being the actual moving of things from Point A to a slightly undetermined Point B. I'm looking at PODS and UPack at the moment, but the really fun part of this is that the common denominator of these "yourself-pack" places is that the pods/trailer has to be parked on actual ground which means that my dad's "lawn" is out of the equation. [Most, if not all of my crap will be harbored there b/c I'm cheap, and I'll be living there for the last prep part of this noble experiment, and also b/c my sister's stuff...or the stuff we're moving up, is also there.]

Hmmm, maybe need the Seabees to come out and lay some macadam.

But I did get a chance to order my new Droid platform phone (cost of which will be covered by the return on my COT electric deposit), and started looking at IKEA bed frames as an alternative to taking up the twin futon mattress.

Maybe not the most productive day ever, but I've got quite a bit less to do to clear out the apartment, and I get to watch some Murdoch Mysteries. Huzzah.