Once

On Monday night my friend and I went to see Once, an indie from the Emerald Isle about a busker and a pianist.

Early in the movie there's a scene in which the pianist drags a Hoover vacuum around Dublin as she and the busker find a place to play music. It's funny. Who would do that?, I thought.

The next day moving fervor began. The now former owner of my new apartment moved out. I got the keys. The reality of being the new owner of a phat pad on 21st Street as well as actually having to finish packing hit me.

I'd done some packing over the past few weeks between writing my book, going to yoga, and having fun. But all of a sudden the time had come to fi-nish.

Over the past two days my life became move-prep central. And it was, just as a friend said, a situation where, "just when you think you're nearing the end there's always something else to pack."

My novel, off to such a streaming start the past few weeks, got neglected. Blogging too. There's no real reason to feel guilty about this in the midst of a move but any aspiring writer who has heard, over and over again, "In order to be a writer one must write every day," cannot help but feel just that.

By midday today all of my earthly belongings were in my new crib on 21st Street. I could not unpack as the place is still due to be painted. I went furniture shopping all afternoon. But later on I had to deal with the mess when I came home and tried to get a bag together for the Hamptons this weekend.

Standing in the middle of a stack of boxes I started to get frustrated over not being able to find a particular article of clothing when I stopped myself. Sometimes these things jump out at you the moment you stop looking for them. And more importantly there are things in this world that just aren't worth getting frustrated over.

Twenty minutes of meditation later, I remembered the box where I'd put the piece.

Back to the Hoover, just for a moment.

I'd left mine at 12th Street for the cleaning lady to do one last pass. I didn't have time to clean as I had to head north with the movers.

When I came back later to pick it up I considered taking a cab for the walk to 21st Street but then decided no, that's silly. It's not raining and the Hoover's not heavy when you're pulling it.

So I did just that, all the way back to my new home.