This weekend we were able to move into our new apartment, but we didn’t have all of our stuff yet. We came to Seattle with only a single carload of supplies… a theoretically streamlined selection of household goods that would allow us to persist for an extended period of time without access to the greater portion of our stored furnishings. We brought a pair of folding chairs, for instance, so we’d have something to sit upon. We had a few cups, some silverware, and a pot and pan for cooking.
We also each brought a box of personal effects, and as you can tell from the comic, we had slightly divergent perspectives as to what we might have needed to get by for a few months. I should probably clarify that Lorie didn’t bring an entire box of lotion as her elective selections; she does not regard skin moisturizing as an essential or hobby. They all just happened to be in the “Bathroom” box, and I must confess that I didn’t actually count them.
As for me and the D&D books, though, that’s true and accurate. The Seattle area is kind of a big area for tabletop games, so I wanted to be prepared. Besides, the game table can be a great way to meet new people and learn more about the community.
We’re no longer running a skeleton apartment however. We rolled into Seattle yesterday afternoon with a moving truck full of stuff, and now everything we own is all in one place for the first time in over 13 months… I think. Of course, it’s almost all still in boxes at the moment, so it’s a little more like a warehouse than a home, but we’ll get there.
Oh, and professional tip: if you’re ever moving to Seattle, you may find the 17-foot truck (or bigger) to be, well, almost impossible to maneuver through some residential areas. We quite literally only succeeded in getting it into a driveway, and then backing it back out on the street through what I describe as the Grace of God. Seriously. I’m sure there are things that need His attention more than our move, but if a car hadn’t moved at just the right time, that truck might have actually been stuck in the driveway, like a proverbial couch jammed in the hallway.