[10] to move

I randomly love helping people move. 

I hate moving myself, understand, because it is such misery to pack everything into boxes and make multiple trips and try to get it all to fit into the new place, but I love helping other people move. It's fun to show up in the morning and wrestle large, unwieldy objects down the stairs and into the truck, fueled by grocery store donuts (yum).

I blithely suggested to C. a few weeks ago that he should not hire movers but just have us come help, because I love helping people move.

I regretted that when my alarm went off this morning. 

It was indeed fun, though, as soon as I had a shot of pure sugar and starch in my system via a donut. Someone arranged the U-Haul like a game of tetris, and I fell on my butt trying to pull the lawn mower up a steep hill. We put together the bunk beds not-quite-right in the new house, and then we got some pizza and sat around eating it.

And later I sat in the window of a delicious-smelling tea shop with my lovely former neighbor, S., who gave me a moment of the wisdom I needed today. I am going to give her this blog address soon, when I remember, when it is not 1:26 am, and so I may as well say here how very much I value her perspective and encouragement. Some people have the ability to see straight through you and also tell you the best of yourself, and she does that, and I need it. I hope my friendship gives as much to her as hers does to me.