The actual moving came off without incident, except that Comcast jumped the gun and cut off my service at 4028 a day early. And I was quite correct - my first looks at the empty flat were very sad indeed, and trying to navigate in the new flat between walls of boxes and without curtains on most of the windows was really awful.
That said, I've made - with the help of Jan and my organizer - great progress over the weekend: the heat is now working, I have privacy in my bedroom and bathroom, and about half of the boxes are unpacked and taken away. The kitchen is completely unpacked, the living room and bedroom are mostly unpacked, much of what I need in the bathroom is unpacked, and I've made a start on unpacking my books and the other contents of my library/study/music room. The least unpleasant bit of unpacking was while I was listening to "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me," my favorite radio program, on my ipod. I wish it had new episodes daily instead of weekly.
By way of addressing the massive stress of dislocation, I pampered myself on Saturday with a pedicure and foot massage. On Sunday, Jan and I took a digeridoo-playing class. I gotta say that being part of a group of adults sitting in a circle and practicing making raspberries (Bronx cheers) was really funny. Each dig is tuned to a particular note, and I astounded the teacher by finding much lower notes in the instrument that I'm renting for two weeks. I've done some raspberries in various recorder workshops for relaxation of the mouth; that may have given me a slight head start on dig technique.
Getting back to my familiar office is a bit of a relief and a bit disorienting. It may take my wits some time to recover; yesterday I left my purse in a restaurant.
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