Oh wow. I've got 48 or 49 hours to move everything out of the place on Bouldin and into the new one in Mount Vernon. I'm in pretty good shape, but I can take no credit for that. When it comes time to pack, I decide I need to count and roll change or write a blog. Or, order a delicious dinner so I can be well-nourished for the task ahead.
Tonight I took one load over after work, packed this morning thanks to an early call from Taskmaster R. Now we're all supposed to be taking three cars of my stuff over, but I had to eat. So I ordered a blackened chicken quesadilla from Nacho Mama's. Really, I should have just heated up a Lean Cuisine, but I thought this might be my last time to walk to pick up take out from the square. You know, because I'm moving and will have to drive.
Nacho Mama's food is average tex-mex, served up in a funky Elvis-worshiping atmosphere. The service notoriously sucks, but the margaritas served in hubcaps make it bearable. I probably will never return to Nacho Mama's again in my life, sadly, so the detour that has put off packing is righteous, I say.
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