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Camy

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Today I am packing my life into boxes.

Today I am packing up.

Today all I want to do is veg out

but for that I am all out of luck.

Fuck.

I'm sitting here - when I should be packing boxes - writing this blog and wishing it was Wednesday. If this was a movie: the camera would be on me and the background would melt away, morphing into my new room. Sadly, I don't have a 'make Sunday Wednesday' machine, nor am I in a movie. Hohum.

Can't loiter here, nattering. Gotta get on (looks around at the bomb site his house has become and a tear rolls gently down his cheek) ... or perhaps I could stay here for a day or two and it'd all be magically done (by pixies and elves)! :armwrestle[1]:

Bye then. I'll be back ... sometime.

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Our man, less pachyderm than mouseIs ill-equipped for moving house.He hasn't a prehensile trunk But cardboard boxes filled with junkPile up for transit A to BFrom Camy's pied-a-terre-by-seaTo Emu Mansions in the townWhere Mr Mayor in gold and gownWill welcome him with pomp and circ-umstance, if he can make it work.So, Mr Emu, knuckle down,Expedite your move to town.You will soon appreciateThat tardy folks procrastinateAnd consequently get there late.But early birds are quick to learn:Extend appendage, catch the worm.We leave the reader to imagineWhich appendage does the snatching.

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What a nice surprise 'twas to get poems!The move is over, but I'm still without connection to the lifeblood of the internet. Soon, I hope. Soon.Thank you all so much! :):smile:

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