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serindeFirst, there was a mad cleaning/putting stuff away frenzy in preparation for the arrival of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nedlnthred's parents, and that was Good. (HEY YOU CAN SIT IN THE LIVING ROOM NOW)
Then there was, or I should say "is" as I'm in the middle of it, the process of tearing all of the places where my STUF resides in the effort to find my passport. I've just been through the media room (also known as "the sage room", "the roomdariodevil was staying in", "the office cats' suite", and "Jesus Fucking Christ it's cold in here"), where I was pretty sure it wasn't, but there was always the off-chance bubblehead possibility; and I have not found it there, but I have done a considerable amount of reorganization. For instance, all my DVDs are on shelves now (and by that I mean "contiguous shelves", not "stacked haphazardly on ten different ones next to books, CDs, and God-knows-what"), and in order. Also I have rounded up miscellaneous items that weren't anyplace intuitive and put them in a more sensible location.
Meantime, Beth's former housemate (the one who went sorta loopy last winter) has FINALLY FINALLY come with helpers to take away all the masses of stuff she left here. Hallelujah, and also Praise the Lord. This will help considerably. E.g., traffic in the upstairs hallway was not materially assisted by the presence of a filing cabinet taller than me, nor yet a dressmaker's mannequin.
...which latter, based on the sound f/x I just heard, would seem to have tumbled down the stairs. Oops.
Now: to disassemble my bedroom. This will be !fun. But if my passport has not fallen into a wormhole, this is where it will be.
(Possibly is now also taking an antihistamine. I have kicked up enough dust etc. to have generated my patented impression of a 19th century consumptive.)
nedlnthred's parents, and that was Good. (HEY YOU CAN SIT IN THE LIVING ROOM NOW) Then there was, or I should say "is" as I'm in the middle of it, the process of tearing all of the places where my STUF resides in the effort to find my passport. I've just been through the media room (also known as "the sage room", "the room
dariodevil was staying in", "the office cats' suite", and "Jesus Fucking Christ it's cold in here"), where I was pretty sure it wasn't, but there was always the off-chance bubblehead possibility; and I have not found it there, but I have done a considerable amount of reorganization. For instance, all my DVDs are on shelves now (and by that I mean "contiguous shelves", not "stacked haphazardly on ten different ones next to books, CDs, and God-knows-what"), and in order. Also I have rounded up miscellaneous items that weren't anyplace intuitive and put them in a more sensible location.Meantime, Beth's former housemate (the one who went sorta loopy last winter) has FINALLY FINALLY come with helpers to take away all the masses of stuff she left here. Hallelujah, and also Praise the Lord. This will help considerably. E.g., traffic in the upstairs hallway was not materially assisted by the presence of a filing cabinet taller than me, nor yet a dressmaker's mannequin.
...which latter, based on the sound f/x I just heard, would seem to have tumbled down the stairs. Oops.
Now: to disassemble my bedroom. This will be !fun. But if my passport has not fallen into a wormhole, this is where it will be.
(Possibly is now also taking an antihistamine. I have kicked up enough dust etc. to have generated my patented impression of a 19th century consumptive.)
