Rather, its been moving week.
Three separate yet distinct offices of my employer are currently moving into a single office. Everyone's going to be one happy family. Yeah, riiight.
Today's the last day (yes, Sunday) for getting everything out of my old office in Salt Lake City. An office from Davis County, and yet another from West Valley moved last week.
I've already moved two Rodeo-loads of crap - yes, crap - from there to home. No one seems to know or realize that all of my spare parts, 500-plus pounds of them, will not fit in a Chevrolet Impala. Maybe without their boxes, but no. Suffice to say, they haven't given me a place to put the leftovers in the new office. I suppose that there are more pressing things to be concerned about.
The crap is mostly twenty-plus years of memories. While there's been time to move it all, there hasn't been time to sort through most of it. Sure, I've dumped five or more trash cans full, but what remains still needs perusal and retrospection.
Three or so more loads and I'll be done. But the hardest part of all this is that I've had a place to go, an office, with my own chair, my own desk, my own in box and out box, my own drawer full of pens and Taco Bell hot sauce packets, for the last twenty-five years. My new office? A car. You're mobile with this company. Down-time is frowned upon. Never should you need to be anchored to a desk.
Anchors Aweigh.
Sunday, July 20
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