Moving Day

I’ve been busy using my meager store of energy to move. Again. This is becoming a bad habit.

This time I didn’t go far, just upstairs to my shop. Still, being the pansy weak wimp that I am now, it wasn’t easy carting crap up the steps and then tottering back down for another load.

For the big stuff, I bribed friends to help. I called up my strongest friends and said, “Hey, how would you like to come for breakfast? There’s a catch.”

I got enough takers to get the job done, and even an offer to help me move every day if I would continue to cook breakfast like that every morning. ‘Forget it’, I said. Cooking is something I work hard to avoid. I do it about as often as I move. Which is shaping up to be about every six months.

So, tomorrow, people are moving into my house to defray the cost of rent I can no longer afford.
People I have never met. Three of them.

My idea of a getting a roommate was trying to find one quiet professional that I could boot once I got back on my financial feet.

Nowhere no how would I have thought to invite a single mother with a 13 year old daughter, a dog, a cat, and grandma from Poland who speaks no English.

But that’s what I did. My mouth was open and I was making the offer before I could stuff a stopper in it.

Life is either about to get very interesting, or intolerable enough to make living in a ford escort look very attractive.
Stay tuned.