Sitting here beside the window, looking out at a fall day that I'll never see again. In about six hours the convoy will be here and our stuff will be handled out the door, into a van, and into a new house. Day off. I'm very excited to be moving. The basement suite is a dive. The upstairs -- in fact everything except the basement suite -- is beautiful, and I wouldn't mind living up there, but down here it smells. It's an inhabited hallway that's hardly inhabited at all. I never really lived here. I just crashed here. None of the doors work. Seriously. There are five. There should be six. One door is brand new. There's a hole in the wall the size of a door and the damp seeps in, along with a smell that permeates my clothing and even possibly my hairwax. There's a massive amount of plastic sheeting and wood panelling in the storage room, meaning the landlord knows about the hole, has the materials to build over it, but never has. I just discovered the wood and plastic yesterday, which tells me in the past five months I've never even explored this quiet place. Moving on.
Work is cool. I'm managing, more or less, a deli downtown. C'mon on in for a sandwich -- I'll make it good, ya know.