Feb. 24th, 2017

My brother's in-laws have a furnished rental house they have offered. It's in Salem, not Portland. But Portland is about an hour away, making it close enough for commuting during my job search. It also offers me the chance to widen the search to other cities. Portland is north, Eugene and Corvallis are to the south: living in Salem during the job search means I'm centrally located.

It doesn't have a garage, just a carport, so I'll need to get a storage facility while I'm there. But that's fine, hell, it's a good thing as this is temporary, so I don't have to worry unpacking and repacking. Of course...

I keep asking my brother questions of how furnished: are there sheets and towels? What about kitchen supplies? Because, you know, I'm packing, and I can either unload useful items when I get there or send them to the storage unit. My brother, and I love him, is a good man but doesn't seem to grasp my questions. He keeps promising to get me pictures, while I'm telling him that as it's temporary (and most likely not a crackhouse) I'm not that concerned about how it looks.

So I sent a text - yet another - and this time I just asked for the in-laws' phone number so I could just talk to them. My sister-in-law then called me, and we shared the giggle about the bro and his way of doing things. Yes, there are sheets and towels, and the kitchen has plates and silverware and a skillet and other basic things. If I want to leave out my crockpot, fine, but the important things are in place, and I can pack for storage accordingly.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go pack that crockpot.

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rattlecatcher

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