A Timely but Unwise Metaphor

Yesterday, I asked Thing One over to judge the outfit I selected to carry with me in the car, in case I have an in-person interview scheduled before I get whatever job I'm going to get.  She did that and more.  She packed two boxes of my owl figurines (watch them be the only two without any getting broken) and other stuff (I still can't find the marking pen that I had set aside to label all my boxes).  She recruited two of my neighbors to help carry furniture to the POD I rented.*  (My computer desk and chair are still in place, but my TV is now on the floor, and the only thing I have left to sit on is my Adirondack-style loveseat I brought in from the front porch.  My bed in still intact, but that's because I can dismantle it and carry the pieces by myself.  (Plus, I kind of enjoy not sleeping on the floor.)

The rest of my apartment is a shambles.  Everything which I hadn't boxed up yet is now on the floor.  Some of the boxes I had put out are shoved around.  Things which I had put in specific places are no longer in those places, and I'll be darned if I can find them now.  Everything happened in under two hours.  I call the effect "Hurricane Thing One".


* In the interest of fairness, the Pack Rat company offers similar moving/storage opportunities.