Moving once is like dying twice

...as the Germans say. I made it cross-country in one piece, but I don't ever want to do that again. Ever.

The trip from Gulfport to El Paso was the longest 16 1/2 hours of my life. There's nothing more demoralizing than driving for nine hours, only to see a sign that says, "El Paso: 551 miles." I was driving through the night, and I managed to stay awake, but only just. However, based on what I saw the next morning when I arrived in El Paso, West Texas is just as boring in daylight as it is in moonlight. The cats managed to settle, for the most part, once the novelty of the truck wore off. The drive itself was uneventful--too much so. Finding fuel for the truck wasn't a problem. Even though there's nothing to resemble civilization between San Antonio and El Paso, most service stations left the pumps on all night. However, that also meant there was no place to a) pee, and most importantly, b) buy coffee between San Antonio and El Paso. I'll admit to peeing behind a couple of gas stations in the middle of the night. Not being able to find more caffeine presented a much more serious difficulty.

I crashed once I hit El Paso, though not nearly for as long as I would have liked. Then it was off again for the final push that night, to San Diego. Fortunately there was a full moon; driving through the New Mexico and Arizona desert by moonlight was strangely beautiful. And New Mexico had a series of very Zen road signs: "Dust Storms May Exist." And "Zero Visibility Possible." I think they were actually meant to be a metaphor for life. If you think about it, many road signs can be metaphors for real life. Watch for Other Drivers. Caution: Rough Road Ahead. Yield. Merge. Road Ends.

Moving-in day presented a whole new challenge, as I'd had maybe six hours of broken sleep in the last 48, almost 30 of which had been spent driving. We managed to get everything inside, with the help of John's friends, and then I went to bed at 4:30 in the afternoon and slept for 14 hours.

Everything since then has been non-stop unpacking, rearranging, and more unpacking. I have a large and varied catalogue of aches and bruises, but the apartment is finally beginning to resemble a place that people might actually live, rather than just a collection of boxes. It's going to be awesome, once it's finally done. I went grocery shopping last night, and went to Sam's Club and Target today. Let me just say that those three trips involved a retarded amount of money, but now I have a full-fledged pantry again. It's been a long time since I had a full pantry (and liquor cabinet) at my disposal; since before the road trip, in May. I haven't yet summoned my mojo and cooked something, but it's coming. Just looking at it all gives me a feel of deep inner peace. And I took all the prints and posters and photographs I collected on the trip to be framed today. When I finally get all that back in two weeks, it will be the final glorious layer of icing on the apartment. No, that's not true. It will be more like a layer of rolled fondant, with swirly things, and a sugar castle on top.