Les Bonnes Choses

This afternoon, I went with my mom to Fabricland because word on the street is that they have some high-grade boxes there. I'm reasonably sure my mom is under the impression that I am more familiar with the staff there than I am, because I really have no idea who any of these people are. Yet the deficiency is clearly mine, because they always know exactly who I am. Anyways, she took me to the manager's office (really, not much more than a closet with a desk) to see Ann to ask for boxes. My mom volunteered that I'm looking for boxes because we're moving.

"Really?" asked Ann. "To where?"

"I don't know."

It's strange when that's the most truthful answer to that question that you can give. But on the upside, I'm looking forward to seeing the house get decluttered as things go into boxes (or sold on kijiji). I have no idea how much it's going to cost to get the lawn in a presentable condition. I do not plan on asking the Weed Man to do it, though, as you may recall my previous dissatisfaction with them.