spinning through Monday, Tuesday

So many boxes to pack! Dust everywhere.

Why those deep sighs? You are picking up a habit of mine. I sigh all the time now.
It's the dust. Can't get enough clean air into my lungs. I feel I'm back to smoking three packs a day.

Working frantically to get as much done before morning movers come. These will be the Madison to Chicago movers. Local guys will come Thursday to help me fix some broken pieces of furniture and shift stuff over to the loft, still others will come Friday to move hundreds (it seems) of boxes into storage. At the same time that a garage sale will be (if I did this right) in progress.

I sent myself the lecture text to work on for Tuesday's classes. What a relief to get the mind focused on textbook problems of domestic relations law!

Most every good restaurant is closed for Labor Day.
Magnus? Harvest?
All closed. Delmonico's?
Never been there. [...] Oh, nice! Candles, they need candles and then it will be perfect.

I take photos. At home, I have lost the cord to the computer. No photos can appear here without the cord. The missing cord is driving me nuts. How could I misplace a cord? I am way too anxious over that cord. I think about it nonstop.

Beef Wellington. When was the last time we ordered Beef Wellington?
That's easy: September 3rd, 1977.

Twenty-eight years ago: a small group, seated around a long table in a wonderful French restaurant in Chicago (it has long gone out of business, but it was sweet). Beef Wellington and champagne. People ate beef without reservation then. No one thought to provide a vegetarian alternative. No one was a vegetarian and if they were, it would be regarded weird enough that you did not have to accommodate it.

At the loft now:

So nice, it is so nice here! Add the striped armchair! You'll love having it in this spot.
Yes, okay, I'll do that.

At home, evening rolls into night rolls into morning. Boxes, dust. Keeping order, making sure everything is marked well. So complicated: Chicago, loft, storage, garage sale, Goodwill. Separate piles, diverging destinations. I need to leave for class. Or, to take the car to the loft from where I'll walk to class. When I come back late in the afternoon, the house will still have debris, many boxes, dust, and a chunk of furniture, but it will be, for all intents and purposes, empty.