Monday
Along with death and divorce, moving makes up the trinity of what are supposed to be life’s most stressful experiences (assuming you don’t live on the Florida coast). On Monday, literally two and a half months after it left the US, my ship came in carrying among other things a large sectional sofa, a 200lb oak bookcase and 84 boxes of assorted personal effects, including an old colander with dried spaghetti stuck to the side and a tea strainer with a hole at the rim. The entire day was like a workshop on the consequences of poor decision-making.
