Mr. Tux, the rabies series, and a move

Monday the cleaning service came to do a move-out clean. My friend and I ran our errands, had lunch at a place we call Panda Dave’s — the best Chinese restaurant in town — and then returned to the house for the final walk through … or so we thought.

The cleaners called to say they had finished. Um, yeah, no. They were paid to clean the basement and to take the trash to the dumpster. They did neither. They were paid to clean the inside of the kitchen cabinets. That was left for us.

By the time we finished, it was 4:00 PM. My friend still had to drive to her sister’s in the Poconos and she was dead tired.

She locked the door and said goodbye to the house that had been her home for about 30 years. Then we said goodbye. I ugly cried a bit. However, the worst of my crying took place after I drove away.

Photo by Zachary Kadolph on Unsplash

I took some vacation time so I could help with the move and then recover. After a week, I’ve almost recovered.

I was awarded the best bonus of all. I got the bottle of Goose Island IPA. I think I might have that with my dinner tonight!

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