So have I mentioned I’m moving house?
For the past three weeks now, I’ve become the world’s
biggest bore. Friends ask me what I did last night? I say I packed. They
ask me what I’m doing tonight? Packing some more. And this weekend?
Yup, you guessed it: packing, packing, and just for kicks, a little more
packin’ to mix it up. My formerly-fun life has devolved into three
main activities: foraging for free boxes, running to the store to buy
more tape, and foraging for still more boxes. In between, I put my
entire life’s collection of stuff into the boxes, mummifying my
favorite objects in newsprint, getting tangled up in bubble wrap. My
life revolves around boxes; I’ve started to see them even when my eyes
are closed (which is not very often these last few nights; sleep, one of
my favorite activities, takes up too much precious time that could be
better used for packing).
Packing is a gargantuan pain. There are never enough boxes
when you move, or they’re never the right size, and have you ever
actually sucked it up and just gone out and bought new ones? They’re
kinda expensive, considering how many of them seem to be sitting out in
the recycle trash for free whenever you’re not actively
searching for them. On top of which, the boy and I have apparently
accumulated enough stuff to fit a house two times as big – and this is
after our gargantuan, and rather successful, yard sale two weekends ago.
Factor in the fact that moving gets progressively more stressful the
farther away you have to schlep, and you get to where I am now: in a
state of total panicked chaos, desperately trying to move out on
schedule. Oh yeah, I don’t think I told you this yet: I’m moving to
Scotland -- Edinburgh specifically -- which by most human standards
would be considered a fair stretch away from my soon-to-be former desert
home in Tucson.
All of which is really a long way for me to say: my dog ate
See, for a month now, I’ve known that this time would come:
when we’d have to pack up our belongings, tie things up here in
Tucson, and move on out. But the way things worked in my mind was that
I’d be working away at my computer like normal all during the day, and
getting the major life change preparations done at night.
Digs would run the same as always; I might have to con a loved
one into uploading my articles while I made the cross-country trek to
get my car to Boston, then flew out to the UK, and finally got myself
settled into a place in Edinburgh, but no biggie: it would be just like
when I went on my honeymoon to Morocco… I’d just have to get my
articles prepped a few weeks in advance.
What I neglected to realize was that moving to a place for two
years is a tad more involved than setting off on a three-week jaunt. And
so the last three weeks have flown by, and I’m nowhere near where
I’m supposed to be – not with moving, and not with work.
So Digs is taking a short break to move house. For the month
of August, we won’t be doing our regular twice-weekly updates. If
you’re missing your Digs fix, feel free to browse our attic of old
articles. Or hop over to the boards,
where there’s fun new stuff to read just about every couple of minutes
(it’s a very friendly place – if you’ve never been by, pop over,
lurk a bit, or just jump into the fray). We’ll be back to our
regularly scheduled programming on Monday, September 6th
– uploading fresh new content from our (still-to-be-found)
brand-spanking new digs in Edinburgh!