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There are any number of boxes stacked tidily in the southeast corner of the living room. Well, it's a fairly low number, as packing stuff to move goes. I've been packing up the easy stuff, packing books, packing unused clothes, packing most of the contents of the lower cupboards in my bathroom except for the toilet paper.

How am I ever going to get all of this packed within the month? How am I ever going to get this moved in the three-day window?

It will be done, but I'm not sure what kind of physical or emotional shape I'll be in when it's over.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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