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2006-06-24 - 12:33 p.m.

.it's hot.

We're back from Vancouver, and the stress level has cranked up.

We got an estimate for how much the move to Vancouver would cost, and the estimate was astronomical - more than 17,000 USD. I had a long talk with my brother (who arranges transport for a living), and he expects that we could find a quote for less than half that price. Thus we have gone from feeling confident in our choice of movers to struggling to find one that can provide us with a reasonable price. I spent yesterday evening calling movers, which I think ranks just below shaving my head with a cheese grater on a list of 'fun' things to do.

I woke up this morning and hated everything, in particular the state of the apartment which is full of JUNK. I rearranged the and dumped out stuff. I organized the laundry into piles. I rearranged the bookshelves and dumped out books. I designated more furniture to get rid of (give away, of course). I tried to motivate K to help by asking him to put one of his large suitcases out of the way, but he was somehow unmoved by my sense of urgency to straighten things. It is difficult to be persuasive when he has a cold and the world cup is on.

oh god. there are too many things to do before this move.

In addition to the stress of, oh, changing jobs, preparing for a conference, and moving over 3000 miles with two cats, I can see three reasons for my crankiness. I'm PMSing. I'm starting a cold. And it's too damned hot.

The cats are cranky and uptight, too. The change of temperature has instigated a need for them to shed themselves bald. I am cleaning up regurgitated furballs twice a day, in spite of my frantic efforts to brush gigantic wads of fur off them. Mizzy exiled herself to the stairwell today, doing one of those crazy cat-body-flattening things. She flattened herself into a perfect rectangle that filled up the entire step, and just lay there looking totally pissed off at the world. Lyra has barracaded herself in my clothes closet and won't come out. I'm looking forward to having every item of my wardrobe look like white angora...these guys know how to protest.

I finally got the message and so I've closed up the flat and turned on the AC. It worked. Mizzy reformed herself into a proper cat shape and came up the stairs. She made a less-than-subtle hint that she wanted to play by dragging her toy out of the box on the top shelf into the kitchen. She tugged at it a few times, and after it didn't move on its own, she looked directly at me and MEOWed emphatically. K finally held the string and shook it while she ripped it to shreds and she was happy.

Okay, my head is beginning to feel like I've stuck it in a washmachine so I think that I will curl up and sleep off this cold.

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