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Bye Bye San Francisco

Bye Bye San Francisco

Our last day in San Francisco and it was representative of our last few years.

Wake up to the newspaper and a leisurely lounging morning of hot tea and fresh orange juice. Maybe a quick stop at the local coffee shop to say hi to Ferdinand, the owner, and pick up a bagel. Let’s start our day right with a bike tour through Golden Gate Park and maybe even over the bridge, Sausalito ferry back to the city, a stop at the ferry building for lunch and head over to …

Oh, I’m sorry. That wasn’t my day. I just read about that kind of day in a magazine. My bad, I think it was a travel magazine. Or one of those glossy magazines with people living lives that we only dream of. Oh, here it is, here’s our last day.

Where’s my 12-year old? Did he have another sleepover? The dog needs to pee, but I should really see if I can get the toner working so we can print out the letter for the notary (that says my wife says it’s OK for me to fly without her because she’s flying with the dog because England is strict about that sort of thing–dogs, not kids). On that note, I have a 9:30 appointment with the USDA, which I don’t really understand because what do dogs and rabies have to do with agriculture? I found it, South San Francisco, got my stamp. On the drive home, the property management guy called and thought we were meeting at 10, but I thought it was 11 (it was 11). Anyway, my 10-year old let him in and he was sitting in our living room, but it was OK because he had email to catch up on. Good thing I didn’t stop for gas. Rushed home to do the last tour of the house. After five months of work cleaning, purging, organizing, giving away, selling, donating, tossing, cutting, chopping and boxing, our place still looks like it needs a deep cleaning. My wife called to say that she passed her nationalization test and did the swearing in ceremony and is soon to be a card-carrying American! Woo hoo! No time to celebrate because there are pee stains on the mattress and how quickly can Recology pick up bulky items? Oh, next Wednesday? We could strap it to the top of the car, but it’s really heavy. Also pee stained. Super hero neighbor says he’ll put it out front next Wednesday. Going to miss him. Labeled and documented boxes 92 through 94. 94 boxes of stuff that we’re actually holding onto. Incomprehensible. Arranging play date so 10-year old can do something more fun than label boxes on his last day in San Francsico. Pack car with boxes for Goodwill, for the storage unit on the peninsula, including a really long headboard that I’m going to use as a bridge/support/weight displacement device in packed storage unit. Will swing by IKEA in Palo Alto for last-minute queen size mattress (see “pee” above), night stands and new plates and bowls. Swoop in around 9:45 PM at 10-year old’s friend’s house to find most asleep except my 10-year old. Home to build IKEA furniture and calculate if this is all really going to fit in our car and then suitcases. Not sure sleep is on the agenda tonight, but after today, we’re done with moving, boxing, categorizing, deciding, fitting, squeezing, purging and not sitting down. Ever.

Bye bye San Francisco. Maybe when we come back we can do that bike ride in the park. Or maybe at least a bagel.

About The Author

Bradley

I don't like to call them excuses. They're priorities. With a handful of exceptions, we usually have a choice in our actions. They just need to be prioritized.

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