It Was A Dark and Stormy Night
Moving Weekend, Pt. II

Storm fronts were moving in, unbeknownst to us, when Will stopped by our place Thursday night to see how the last of the packing was going. All things considered, we weren't doing so badly, in spite of the polar opposition between Jake's ("can't we just throw everything else into trash bags?") and my ("large things on bottom, small things on top, label with the blue sharpie and place next to box 3A") packing styles. Will mentioned he'd gotten an email from Tech saying his room was being repainted and carpeted and wouldn't be ready until Sunday, which would work out much better with our Saturday-heavy moving schedule, anyway. So we wrapped up for the night with relative sanguinity, and went to bed just as the thunderstorms started. Jake was even asleep by the time the reverberations from the thunder were setting off car alarms.

By nine-thirty on Friday morning, when I left the apartment, the sky was bright and clear. Only the parking lot showed the remnants of the storm, with leaves and small branches from the one tree in the entire parking lot scattered all over the pavement. "Huh. That's an awful big branch over there," I thought to myself as I shifted into reverse. "Good thing it didn't come down on my car."

Surprisingly, it still took me a couple seconds to process why the rear bumper on Jake's Passat looked so unexpectedly crunched.

/Still to come: actual moving?