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A moving experience.
polydad
Shortly after I'm done writing this, I'm going to go clean out my storage area and bring the contents here for a garage sale.

The storage facility just raised their price for the 10'x10'x10' unlit box to a hundred and a half a month, so even if I don't get a nickel out of the garage sale I'll reduce my monthly expenses by 20%.

The fact that I probably *won't* get a nickel out of it is the depressing part.

Well, I'll get a nickel. But I won't be able to get any money for the entertainment center or the coffee/end table set. And they're both really nice pieces of furniture my Mom got for me after the pillaging I went through in the divorce.

The entertainment center cost four grand new in the early '00's; it's from the day of TVs needing thirty-inch-deep cabinets to fit in. TVs today have screen areas much too big to fit in such a cabinet, and they hang on the wall with an oversized picture hook anyway. (Maybe it could be a kid's bedroom?)

The table set are three bronze frames and a box of slate tiles that fit in 'em. In an enthusiastic burst of Jewish-Mama bargaining, Mom managed to get 'em for six hundred for the set, rather than the 22-hundred asking price. They just barely fit in my San Pedro apartment, as the legs to all of 'em go *out* rather than *down*. (an S-shape.) I'd thought they were great nomad furniture because the frames are light and the box of removed tiles is manageable, but while it's easy to *move*, those frames are big and awkward to store. And the ensemble really doesn't fit in any room smaller than 15x25, which is not a size of space that very many nomads have access to.

And I'll be getting rid of my motorized-bike project. It would vastly improve my mobility if I could finish it and use it; I can get most places on my current conventional bike, but going up hills and biking during heat waves are both real problems that having a motor would solve. But I don't have any place to work on it in, and it's of no use 'til it gets finished being built.

And there's other stuff, but let's just leave it at this is me getting rid of the physical manifestations of a quarter-century's worth of memories. Which stings.

Anybody who's in or can get to or pay shipping from Portland, OR, and wants some stuff, come get. I'd rather give it to friends, where at least I get visitation rights, than sell it to strangers for pennies on the dollar.

And I'm not as strong as I used to be. This is going to be a *very* strenuous day.