Moving in

What should we be taking with us in the big move?

I’m serious. I’m here now. One room, one half-bathroom, one kitchen. I brought what I thought I should but now I’m sitting here on hard wood under the big light – pale yellow – surrounded by boxes and boxes and two lamps and no, I  haven’t plugged them in yet. I’m not sure you were thinking this, but I don’t want to be known as some freak that keeps the big light on, on purpose.

During the move and on the way up those damn flights one of the boxes I was carrying broke from underneath and half the books in there tumbled out and creased their edges. One of them was signed – not sure who –  but  it’s got this great, painted waterfall on the cover that bends round the corners and the spine. Swathes of blue and white. Anyways, I’ve brought all that and now I’m aching and thinking. I just went downstairs, just now, round the corner, round another, ears aching in bitter cold because I couldn’t remember the box with hats and boots crackling on new snow and finally I got to the store. I grabbed a few things. A beer (in congratulations.) It’s here now, in hand, half done and it’s browner than it should be but that’s probably just the god-awful lighting in here.

I thought I got olives too. Damn it. I checked the brown bag twice and the rest of the room’s too much of a cardboard mess to check through right now. I knew I should’ve brought them. Last night I cleared out the pantry much better usual and thought, really, truly hard to myself:

‘What kind of idiot packs his olives?’

And then I threw that black and green jar (I splash out on artisanal, mixed olives) right out. The poor thing made a thud on the side of the trash can. It hurt a little to let them go. I must have stared into that can twice as long and hard as I usually do. I’m normally a throw and forget type of guy. And here we are. Every decision I’ve made is right here in these boxes in this room and all the things I thought I wanted, thought I needed, thought would be useful or handy at some point in time or another are all with me and yet, here I am.

Craving olives.