I hate moving
I have spent a full week and a day packing, loading, boxing, renting turcks, driving trucks, caging cats, moving furniture and appliances, signing documents, signing more documents, sitting in DC traffic, signing documents, selling coffee and setting up coffee brewing equipments, packing more boxes, unloading more boxes, pulling the ocaissional all nighter to pack more boxes, signing documents, telling my realestate broker to stop patronizing me and generally go screw himself with roughly textured items, hearding cats and strapping cat cages down in cramped truck cabs, backing up a big truck into tiny driveways, and of course signing documents.
All of my worldly possesions are now up North and I am the owner of a residence in the town of West Chester PA, but still living Raleigh NC in my Uncle’s basement. This weekend I am in PA with my inlaws closing on the new house and visiting one my future clients up here. Milkboy, on the Main Line just outside of Philly, is a tight space with a GB5 and nothin’ but French Press. I went in incognito and got a cup of press and a shot. The preparation was with full attention to quality and freshness, and this is a huge deal. So often the little things are overlooked, but these guys were operating with both eyes open. Then I was off to the second land transfer settlement of the week for me. That was completely exhasting, but it put me in my new house. The new place will be livable after the kitchen, winodows, and roof are all completelly replaced. More moving updated to follow, as they say.