Movers are always late

I'm sitting at home on the couch, waiting for the movers to arrive. Predictably, they're running late. Which is a pretty torturous thing, when everything you own is in boxes, except your laptop. So I'm reduced to watching re-runs of Saturday Night Live skits on the internet. Which, come to think of it, is actually pretty fun. I might keep doing it even after we've moved.

Queen Jaffa, having shown tremendous fortitude throughout the chaos of this move, has chosen this morning out of all, to insist on sleeping on the keyboard. Which makes blogging an interesting adventure in its own right.

For the fifth time in 7 years, I'm packed up to move again (but this time to stay put for longer). Once again, all my worldly possessions have been summed up in two suitcases and a handful of disposable boxes. And a scratching post (doesn't fit in the boxes), and a sleeping cat.

Boxes, suitcases, scratching post, sleeping cat and me, still waiting for the movers to arrive. In eager anticipation, that in a couple hours, we can start the rest of our lives in the new home.