Off-topic: While taking a break from unpacking it occurred to me that I’m not going to have room in this apartment for all the junk we’ve accumulated, and that’s despite having gotten rid of a good chunk. Now that’s not to say it won’t fit in here somewhere because it always does–BUT, I’m so tired of seeing boxes everywhere. I wish I could finally reside in some place which does not resemble a storage facility, but with the rising energy costs in Alaska I’m afraid this will just have to suffice. It’s all we could afford and it’s a decent place.
With the latest demise of my “good computer” I’m thinking maybe I should just let HG die once and for all. Even when/if I get it repaired I might not have time for the zine anymore since I scored a web design job. Besides, there is the nagging feeling that I should really get on back to my own writing; I miss it, to tell the truth.
So, to write or not to write is the question: the answer to it still eludes me, however.
I bought a new couch back in October out of total necessity–first time I ever bought a brand new, large piece of furniture. This apartment entrance is up eight steps and then down fifteen steps and after trying every possible configuration it dawned on me that there was no way in hell that new couch was going to make it inside the apartment:( It’s just too large. So, I had BT take it to work where he stored it for a few days and then sold it to a co-worker for one quarter its purchase price. We’re using an ancient chair I got from a hotel I worked in twelve years ago, a desk chair, and a couple of metal folding chairs for seating, which is unpleasant, to put it mildly.
And, that is just one of the horror stories I have for this latest relocation. Still and all, life is good.