As I write this, more and more boxes are appearing in the homestead as books disappear from shelves. After three years in Lansdale, we’re moving closer to my dayjob. There are things I will miss about living here – easy access to mass transit, many shops close by, the rustic charm of the house – and things I won’t – the traffic noises, the lack of privacy, the illusion of space.
I’m still going through and throwing out things from the basement, something that’s been a long time in coming. I picked up a habit of hoarding, and removing a good deal of dead weight from among the boxes beneath me has been liberating. However, there’s still a great deal of packing to do, and a few loose ends to tie up, especially since the house from which we rented this apartment got sold out from under us and the new owners have been relatively silent.
Today will be a long day at the dayjob, and moving day is tomorrow. For those that care, I don’t foresee a major disruption in the schedule. And, hopefully, once things are set up and settled in I can focus more on Cold Streets and try to meet my self-imposed deadline of “end of 2012” for some form of workable draft.
One would think I would have outgrown my tendency to procrastinate by now. But I seem to keep putting it off.
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