life, in snippets

Moving day approaches. Tomorrow, in fact. I’m all packed. Even my desk is dismantled, and computer separated into it’s component parts. (Wah!) I’m sleeping in the lounge, with all my boxes, as my uncle and cousin are here tonight to move me tomorrow.

My other uncle is coming up to send me off tomorrow, too. And bringing me a TV, which is very nice. (Free Stuff Good.)

So, things are quietly trundling along. I’m tidying up at work, so that Webmistress won’t be buried under a deluge of random stuff when she returns on Monday. And I’m very, very chuffed with my (soon to be ex) coworkers. They clubbed together and bought me some leaving presents.

• A $50 voucher to my favourite clothing store.
• $50 cash.
• A 40gig external hard drive.

My. Coworkers. Rock.

So. I’ll be offline for a bit – there’s phone at the flat, but no ‘net connection yet. Wish me luck!

The Huge Pile of Boxes in the lounge of Mum’s place is now about half the size.

There is now a Huge Pile of Newspaper and Empty Cardboard Boxes in my flat. Waiting for paper collection day. Note to self: Find out when paper collection/trash day is. This will be a Good Thing to Know.

So. I’m half moved. And the stuff that isn’t yet moved, I know where it’s going. I had great fun pottering about, pulling stuff out of boxes, working out what I needed to do with it all.

However, the hilarity of the weekend – at least, the hilarity not related to me realizing I had no bog roll – was mostly related to the local branch of the Feline Tenant Brainwashing and Welcoming Committee. See, I awoke at 5.30am Sunday. Lord only knows why. So, pootled around a little, nattered on the phone to Tobermory – blessed timezones, if I should be sleeping and can’t, he’s most likely awake – and then got up and toddled round a bit, going “Meh, rain”.

My bedroom windows are at the outside groundlevel. (Basement flat.) So, I’m leaning on my window ledge. And a very enthusiastic black furry gentleman noticed my presence, came BOUNDING over to the window, issuing “It is RAINING and I am WET, lemme in!!” noises. So, one gorgeous black boy inside, lots of purry noises.

And then, he saw my Tigie (an ENORMOUS stuffed toy). And did the whole Puffball move, complete with hissing noises, and bounded out the window again. Me, I collapsed on the floor in giggles. Especially as, less than a minute later, he was sitting – at the other end of my flat – at my door going “Meer, it’s wet, lemme in!!!!”

Two hours later, Blackie had trundled off on a Catly Mission of Importance. I was poodling round the kitchen, contemplating food. The rain had since cleared and then restarted rather violently. And there was an outbreak of “MEER MEER it is RAINING, meer meer DOOROPENNOW”. A refined, but frantic, ginger beastie Wanted In Right Now, Thankye. Said ginger beastie also pottered round my flat – and also took large exceptions to the Tigie.

Made my day. I think I’m going to be happy here.

I woke, this morning, bundled in my blankets, the wrong way on the bed. Headset on the floor, computer still on, Skype showing a disconnected call.

I spent last night nattering to Tobermory. I don’t know when I went to sleep. Messaging this morning revealed that, amidst a conversation about music, I’d drifted away, and he’d woken me just enough to convince me to take off the headset, lest I get a cricked neck in my sleep.

But oh, it was good actually talkingto him again. We haven’t had the chance – I’ve been trekking all over the countryside, he’s been away doing various things. He’s 12 hours behind me, timewise, so he’s working while I’m sleeping, and vice versa. Quick conversations via cellphone and IM are never the same.

So we talked. And laughed, till our sides ached and I was crying. Music and books and people and things. His adventures at school, back when he was an innocent gamer brat, going to ‘parties’ which consisted of videogames, manga, anime, caffiene, and pizza. Him, being caught by a teacher drinking in a pub (underage), and buying the teacher a beer so that he had long enough to finish his own pint. (And being ‘punished’ with bacon sarnies for a week.) The way that religions are represented unfairly via the sound effects in comic books.

Slept so contentedly, drifting off with my Womble’s voice. He’s good for me, is Tobermory.