November 22, 2004
I think I've helped almost every one of my friends move. Ever since we started getting out of our parents' houses, I've been lugging friend's boxes up four floor walk-ups, carrying couches down rickety stairwells, and hauling TVs across town. My hands feel thick today from helping another friend move into her first place in Chicago. She'd travelled across the country back in September and has been staying in my extra room while she gets oriented to the city. It's been great having her at the house, but today we hauled her pie display case, her two 78 players (neither work), a bureau, some pictures, and a bunch of boxes (oddly, there was no bed) out of her storage space, up a flight of stairs, and into her new home.
Like I said, I've helped almost every one of my friends move into their homes, and every time I do it I'm glad I did. My back may hurt or my ankle may get twisted, but it's wonderful to see the look of endless possibility--of new directions and new lives--that fill people's faces when they step into their new place, and it's nice to know I could do something to help make it happen.
To new homes and new beginnings,