Pant, pant, pant. Whew ran around today much more than I thought I would doing a lot of basic things, like bringing books back to the library. I went all over trying to find this stuff called "Dryel" that is supposed to be this marvelous "dry-clean your dry-cleanables yourself in a dryer" stuff. We'll see. I have a ton of things that need to go to the cleaners before being shipped and would definitely rather do it fast (and cheaply) myself. Tomorrow morning I have a date with a laundromat.
I'm at that point in the packing where it seems like I did a lot and then I look around and go, good l-rd, did a single thing move? Pretty much down to the zillions of little things, things that wouldn't fit in previous boxes, and still tons of papers to go through and decide if they are "toss," "file and pack" or "holy cow you need to take this exceedingly important document on the plane!"
The cats btw are noticing that things are moving. Buffy, my sweet little girl, has gone psychotic on me. She is peeing on the rug. Repeatedly. Yesterday and today. The living rooms smells ---well, it smells. The rug has been cleaned and cleaned and rolled up but it is too big to lean upright on the wall and so I suspect she is sneaking back in to, yep. Mischa too is noticing and becoming very cat-aggressive toward the girls. Pandy cries all the time. They seem to know that this is not a "move just across the city" packing up business. They've moved before and never acted like this.
The roommate situation is getting very worrisome. He still hasn't packed a box. Still hasn't found a place to move. He has 2 days. And has intimated that he just might not go. My name is on the lease, his is not. He has to go or I won't get my very hefty deposit back. He has to go. Must. I really do not want to descend into bad-person levels like wishing he'd get hit by a bus. Actually, hmmm if it were a taxi it might not be so bad? I will put his things on the street. I will do it. I'm moving to Israel damnit, he better not cross me now! :)