August 1 is when it all goes away, when it’s all over. We have to turn in the keys to the old apartment by midnight tomorrow, but before then we have to get our stuff out of there.

I know! I thought we got all our stuff out of there, too! We certainly paid the movers enough. But there’s still stuff in there.

All the furniture is gone and has been moved to where it’s going to be, but there’s a bunch of STUFF, just STUFF, the stuff that piles into the corners and gets in the way and annoys you because you don’t really know what to do with it, where to store it, or even why you need it, but you can’t throw it away because OMG what if you need it next week except, you totally won’t. But you might. Also, it was expensive.

If you have a place you’re living for a while you have the luxury of ignoring it and storing it, but I have to move it outta there, and the way I’m dealing is sticking my head under my pillow and going “La la la, is it August yet? No? Ok. La la la.”

For some reason, this method is completely unsuccessful in moving the piles of stuff out of the old apartment, nor is it taking care of the other task at hand after getting all the stuff out: “broom sweeping”. That’s term used in real estate to mean “you didn’t bleach it, but all your stuff is out, and there isn’t dirt everywhere.” or rather “Empty, and reasonably clean.”

I just don’t want to. It’s hot. I’m tried. This is overwhelming. Podcasting was rough this week. I need a nap.

Just a little further, Amber. Just a little more.