Tomorrow I start packing up the apartment, because — assuming all goes well with the last remnants of inspections and repairs — we move into our new love mansion on September 11.
I spent all yesterday evening chanting “higitus figitus” at my books, but so far they have shown no signs of jumping into boxes on their own. I believe I’m going to have to pack the damned things myself. Good thing the library sale happens after we’re in the new place or I’d be in real trouble.
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