So. Fierce independence, it turns out, is not always the best technique.
This week I'm moving. Not very far, mind, just a seven minute walk down the hill, easy! Easy! I thought, I'll just carry my stuff down! All my stuff:
Down three flights of stairs,
down my (old) street,
past the pharmacy,
two coffee shops,
a penny on the road,
the barber's,
the news agent's,
the hair-dressers',
the pub,
the Co-op,
a vacuum cleaner shop,
a vet's,
Julian Road Stores,
another hair-dressers',
a hotel,
an expensive restaurant,
up my (new) road,
and up three flights of stairs.
Again and again. And again. I wonder what all the barbers and hair-dressers think of this girl going back and forth with her giant purple suitcase and various instruments. If I wasn't me, I might write a story about me. As it stands, however, I am me, and
I'm so tired I don't even feel like running. Which is, of course, pretty darn tired. I phoned Neil. Tomorrow Neil is bringing his van.
1 comment:
I'm exhausted from just reading that! I hope, at the very least, that the weather cooperated while you were doing all this back and forth? I imagine rain would have further complicated the mission!
PS - I wish there were a vacuum cleaner shop within walking distance of my place - mine is working about as well as that Fischer Price one we had as kids...
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