All moved and the work never ends

I thought that there would be a time when I felt moved in. A shining moment when all of my things were put away and everything was clean, and I would feel good about it. That moment hasn't come yet and I'm starting to think it never will. I am, on the other hand, starting to appreciate how the work never ends. And I live in a one bedroom condo. There's not even a yard to take care of. Thank god or I'd never do anything else.

I cleaned out two more cabinents in my kitchen and the last drawer of things that were left. Whoever had this place last didn't clean it before they moved. I've found lots and lots of other people's things here. The greatest hits list includes old cooked pasta, oatmeal, a really nice set of wrenches, gross soap covered in hair, toenails, and the razo blade that I cut myself on one Saturday night a while ago. The razor blade was really the worst. It was in the bottom of one of the drawers in the bathroom. I found it when I was wiping out the bottom of the drawer and jammed my thumb into it.

That acutally resulted in another funny story involving a friend of mine and a weird phone message.

At this point, I'm avioiding dishes. I'm at that weird point where I don't have enough dishes to ever really fill up the dishwasher... Ok, I'm out on the patio typing right now and THE LOUDEST firework I ahve ever heard just went off. All I heard was the noise, I didn't see the thing, but wow! was it loud.