Very, very tired bird.

[kiya]

So I didn't really sleep last night. I mean, I slept, but the only reason I have any clue about that is I had a dream about Dragaerans (I don't remember anything about the dream itself, but I remember it had Dragaerans; I've been rereading Brust again). I went upstairs at about two-thirty and had a shower, and then read for a while because I wasn't sleepy and I was busy being Resolutely Sober (I succeeded), and then went to bed and curled up on Kevin and talked, and then tossed and turned and failed utterly to sleep (except for the Dragaerans), and we got up at a bit past eight.

You see, keshwyn was moving today, and had a Large Mob in to help, and we were part of the Large Mob (and we gave her and Darker a bottle of cyser as a housewarming gift). And so today has been spent packing boxes (I got to pack boxes because I was a very tired stresspuppy and every time I sneezed I fell down, so I packed boxes and moved them to the top of the steps and the bucket brigade took 'em downstairs). And then getting them all into the truck, and driving to the new place, and unloading the truck, and distributing the resulting boxen and other stuff to the appropriate locations or, failing that, the living room. It took about a load and a half of the U-Haul.

It was very hot. Most of the women doing moving (this was a Wellesley Survivor Operation) stripped down to bra; I tied up my shirt for the same purpose, and at one point gave up and stripped to the waist since at the time I wasn't going outside to horrify the neighbours and attract the Enforcers of Public Decency, but then decided that airconditioning would be better served by a wet shirt that I happened to be wearing. It was very hot, and dusty, and I sneezed a lot. Fortunately, a good fragment of the time I was already sitting down.

We got fed. Pretty decent Indian. (Yay papadums.)

By the time we got to the end of the truck, the exhaustion had me staring at the stack of stuff on the kerb wondering desperately if there was anything I could trust myself to lift. Tim caught me like that once and pointed out a stack of rolled-up posters, so I took in rolled-up posters for a while.

I am an ugly bag of mostly Gatorade.

Got home about an hour and a half ago, which I have spent sitting down.

Comments

I am an ugly bag of mostly Gatorade.

[mittelbar.livejournal.com]

Better, at this point in the day, I would hazard, than being a crystalline entity.