It is happening. There can be no question. My house has the distinct feeling of residence when I was one of the last people to leave. There are vestiges of the habitation of others, a radio that isn't mine, a bit of trash left in a corner, and the unmistakable echo of my radio in an almost empty building. The first things I'm packing are my books. I'm trying to pack them according to whether I might actually look at them while I'm at Al and Carrie's place. Most of the earth science, renaissance history, anthropology and archaeological texts are being boxed first. I read them, but with a good deal less frequency than my art books - and even those will be put through triage. I'll probably take down my art next. God, how depressing.

Tomorrow, after my appointment at Dr. Gawel's (it's a real pain to have to see him just for my migraine prescription renewal) I will come home and collect my closet clothing and bundle it into the car. I think I'll take it to Al and Carrie's in advance of my official move, just to reduce the pressure. By tomorrow night, everthing big has to be ready to go as of lunchtime Wednesday. Ryan is a saint for helping me move - or maybe a sucker. I'm not sure. At least my bed will probably fit in the elevator, unlike the queen sized box spring that he had to help Al carry up ten flights of stairs. Yeesh.

Justin just dropped in to pick up the bedding I loaned him so that he might wash it for me. Since it's got his drool and curlies on it, it's only fair. He seems sort of contrite, which is appropriate, I guess, and he tiptoes around the whole moving process with care. He should, he shafted me pretty hard. Oh well, I love him just the same, even if he's a shnook. It's really warm out, which means I have all the windows open, and the back porch. I brought in my barbeque and chairs - it's supposed to start getting cold again tomorrow and in case it snows, I do not want to have to dig my stuff out. I discovered that with this unusually warm winter, some of my creeping, ground-hugging plants haven't actually died yet. It made me a bit sad to dump them and their soil on the porch, but I'm not taking the dirt with the pots into storage. Also, it's a nice feeling to leave the new owners a righteous mess outside. Ohhh, yeah.