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Wednesday November 22, 2000, 03:41

Wow. So I've finally moved out of Boston. And there's someone already living in my apartment. And he smokes. And this means that some of my stuff smells like smoke as I had to leave a bunch of it up there when I moved the first of my... woah. Back up there. Let's try this again.

I've been up late most nights this week. First there was a party up in Boston. Then late nights working on imood and reading. Tonight it's actually an attempt to produce some content which is going amazingly poorly. If I were the giving up sort, or even the smart sort, I would drop this whole thing and go to sleep. But not being one for throwing in the towel, I will sit here some more, my nose cold from the open door to my right that leads to the attic in which several bats reside during the warmer months and which, tonight, plays host to a fine autumn draft.

This staying up late is about the only thing I can do in this house given that it is full of more people that I have been used to being around for the past year. The thing about living alone is that you forget that there are other people in the world. I would find myself calling friends just to remember what my own voice sounded like. And it was lovely. To just be at home with my head and my words and my music and all that. And no cable. Cable television is about the worst thing that has happened to me since return to this house.

So I moved the majority of my things out two Mondays ago. My father came up with the almost-ten-year-old station wagon and we packed and squashed and strapped my computers, books, pictures, carpet and two chairs to it. By the time we were finished it looked like we were going to be draggin the ass-end of that Buick all the way home. But we managed to make it back in one piece.

On the issue of timing. I've never really had much luck with timing in my life, but I seem to have had decent luck with apartments, having scored temporary housing in New York last year before I moved to Boston and then securing a decent apartment once there. Now just as we had finished tying the chairs to the roof, I was approached by Jake, the representative from the management of the building, who inquired about the status of the move as there was someone who wanted to move in. Immediately. Mere moments later, after a brief breeze through the building I had the promise of half a month's rent from the new tenant and an early termination of my lease from the management. A penny saved, and all that.

So that was last week.

This week was me and a friend and a pickup truck and more pieces of furniture and various other sundry items than I could have imagined to be left in my apartment. But we managed to pack everything up and with a final (paranoid) look around the then empty apartment it was time to hit the road for the last time.

And this brings us to now when I sit up at an early hour pouring my words out, slouched into the sofa and dreaming of a time when I will be writing from my own apartment, preferably with a nice view, definitely with my own books and my own computers and my own bed and my own music and definitely a lot warmer than it is right now, for while sweat shirts are comfortable and all that, it's certainly a lot more fun to walk around in fewer clothes than in more.

Me. Naked. Yeah.

I said fewer, not none! Some people.

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