As Eric Clapton sings “Let It Rain.” I’ve just returned from my morning run, soaked to the bone. Fortunately, I was able to get the dogs outside before it started. Their much anticipated “Schnauzerton” is now out of the question because somewhere in the middle of my 3.1 mile jaunt, it began to pour, and looks like it’s here to stay. I pulled my car into the garage and put the top down to accommodate some more boxes to drive down to the new apartment. 

Yesterday, 1-800-GOT-JUNK stopped by and my wife and I moved part of a bedroom suite over to the neighbor’s garage. The first carload of non-junk then went to my stepdaughter’s house. This was soon followed by a drive to the apartment with a second load. By mid-afternoon, my wife and I were both exhausted, but continued to sort and organize for future trips. I watched the tragic but predictable end of the Cubs game and some college football before we both fell asleep in the middle of a Sopranos episode. Our dog Tally was obviously depressed from losing her chewed-up couch to the junk man. She refused to eat her dinner and retreated to a chair in my dark office. All of our lives are changing every day, as we continue to make the transition from home to apartment. 

Today’s rain makes me feel like I’m not missing out on anything. We’ll soon drive downtown and separate our boxes between storage and closets and probably come back for another car-full or take more stuff to Goodwill. It’s been pretty much the same routine for the past week. Fortunately, my wife is no longer working and can devote most of her time to protective packing and unpacking, filling plastic tubs full of precious knick-knacks, glassware, and porcelain. My role is to load and unload, using my convertible like a pick-up truck. It’s then top-up or top-down, depending on the weather. Today is a top-up day, so I’m limited on how high I can stack boxes and clothes. Maybe I’ll get to watch some NFL football before the day is over? Let It Rain!