I've ferried two carloads of stuff to Kim's, mostly for a feel of doing something. The Salvation Army will be here to pick up the entertainment center and the papasan chair on Friday--presuming I still want to give them away. Yeah, I'm waffling. The only thing I actually definitely wanted them to take was a metal student desk, and they won't take the damn thing!
Yesterday it rained most of the evening, giving me a mild stress level as it blocked me from moving stuff out easily. I finally just made a break for it. Kim and I had dinner yesterday at Don Pablo's; of the Tex-Mex chains in the area, Kim likes them more than Rio Bravo, although my preferences are reversed. Kim tends to quickly settle on "default dishes" at restaurants and I suppose his default dish at Don Pablo's (chicken parilla) is better than whatever his dish at Rio Bravo is. For my part, I've found Rio Bravo's side dishes are noticeably better--good, even, whereas Don's generally seem to be afterthoughts--and Rio Bravo has a chile relleno better than those of most "real" Mexican restaurants I've been to. (And before anyone makes a veiled swipe at the likelihood of finding real Mexican in Tampa Bay, trust me, there's some pretty damn good ones here.)
The dinner picked my crashing mood up yesterday, but by the time I got back home I felt kind of drained again. This morning, things were better mood-wise, but with moments of frequent melancholia. A friend suggested that it's because I really don't want to move and I'm dragging my feet. Yeah, probably. In one of those cheerful emotional paradoxes, I really am looking forward to moving--but I don't want to leave the place I'm in now. Despite the logic against it, I really would like to take my living room with me, too; bluntly, I like it more than I like Kim's. I like the old glass-top coffee table, although I agree with John Cooner's observation that end tables are better, since coffee tables tend to just collect junk on them. Mine keeps collecting junk. It's still collecting junk, despite having been through several successive rounds of trash-collecting and treasure-sorting.
Let me see. What's left to pack? Clothes. A lot of the clothes need to be washed. Everything in the bureau and linen closet. A little of what's left in the kitchen--mostly appliances and a couple weird pots. I'll probably take a few perishables with me in a cooler, too. There's most of the entertainment setup: receiver, DVD player, TV, five speakers. VCR borrowed from Bart Fox years ago, never connected up. There's the PC--the scanner's packed up as of a half-hour ago but this leaves the PC itself, along with keyboard, monitor, trackball, PDA cradle, Roland speakers (ugly but better than most "multimedia" speakers you'd pay twice as much for). A LaCie CD burner that actually goes with the laptop.
And there's the oft-mentioned knick-knacks, which at this point consists of things I just haven't boxed up. A couple leftover computer books, fanzines, notes, and so on. Candleholders. Utensil holders. A thick-stemmed beer glass. A couple cheap fruit bowls. A picture of my grandmother. A Paul Stookey solo LP. An empty piggy-bank my mother inexplicably gave me last Christmas. The glass cookie jar I've actually been using to collect coins.
I packed a lot--well, it felt like a lot--today, until I managed to do something that opened the wound on my thumb up enough to cause blood to run (quickly). I bandaged it with a band-aid rather than the useful but fragile Steri-Tape and sat a bit, then drove to Kim's with a load of boxes and to pick up a couple new empty ones. When I came back from the 2.5-hour round trip, it started raining. I got out of the car with the umbrella, walked to the door. As I found I didn't have my apartment keys the rain became torrential, making the umbrella all but useless as I hurried back to the car and hunted for the keychain.