Even as I speak, strong men are taking my possessions and loading them into a truck. We’ve got a team of three, plus the driver (owner / operator, contracted to Ace Atlas). They have a system involving little numbered stickers and a clipboard dereferencing the numbers on the stickers back to what that sticker is supposed to be stuck to.
Having removed all illusions that I’m in control here, I find that I’m much more relaxed. I just sign on the line, and some sizable fraction of my stuff ends up in Rhode Island.
Originally published at chris.dwan.org. You can comment here or there.
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