Today I walked, or rather stumbled, out of the townhouse I have called home for the last 12 or so years; as long, I think, as I've called any place home, for what might be the last time. I dragged my last nine parcels out with me.
Excuse me. I nodded off there just now. Have not slept much at all lately. High hopes for tonight though.
The taxi driver came with van at a surcharge as requested. He looked at the walker and my bags and said:
"Is that all coming?"
Translation: "I wish that wasn't all coming."
Me: "Yes."
Top-Ten Answers I should have said:
10. No. They'll follow us on their own.
9. Let me guess: you're not aware you're a moron; are you?
8. As long as they're not on fire.
7. No; just every other bag.
6. Yes. And I really pray that's the stupidest question I'm going to hear today.
5. No, just the ones that don't fly away when you reach for them.
4. I don't know. You'll have to ask them.
3. Hey, that's a great idea! Yeah; let's bring 'em all!
2. Does the Pope shit in the woods?
1. No. They're just breathing heavy.
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