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Moving In

I've been here a good 3/4 of a month, and I still have boxes that aren't unpacked yet. This would be more minor if only this were not a small studio apartment. I can see having a lot of that going on in a large house, or a large apartment, but given that I took off an entire week and a half to do my moving, and I've had a lot of three-day weekends since then, it would make sense that I should be almost entirely unpacked by now.

The place is taking on a slightly respectably disreputable "lived-in" look, which is to say that mail in various states of opened is scattered on the kitchen counter, my crucial electronics are set up lovingly, my bed is its usual shambles of pillows and blankets. The shower is operational, and my day-to-day clothes are in the closet or various stages of in need of washing. There are edible things in the refrigerator. But it's still clear that this is still being picked up and put away.

There's another load of boxes sitting by the trash to be picked up and taken by someone who needs them more than I do. Once they're gone, I'll feel a lot better...
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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