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Tuesday, July 19, 2005
I'm trying to train all of our belongings to jump into boxes on their own. It is not working. Only Clyde will jump into the boxes uninvited. I think we're just going to have to pack everything. Sigh.
We gave the slumlord notice; we're going to keep the love shack through August 15th. We can get into the new place on August 1st, so that will allow us a bit of transition time.
Dennis gave notice at the record barn today; he ain't workin' there no more. In a couple of weeks, anyway. Once we get moved, he's going to be the new facilities manager at St. Ned's, or, if you speak Episcopalian, the Sexton. Huh huh huh huh. She said Sexton. This rocks on many, many levels. I really need the help keeping this place running, and I know he'll do a great job. Plus it's very flexible; stuff has to get done but he doesn't have to be here at set times too often, so he can build his schedule around writing and doing interviews with musicians. And maybe swinging by to have lunch with his wife once in a while.
Yes, the church secretary is already sexually harassing the new sexton. It's like a bad British comedy at our house.
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