While poor Tom was tiling into the night, Paul and I were eating pizza together and then attending a Maine Red Claws game, where we got to watch minor-league Boston Celtics hopefuls crush the Salt Lake City competition. Plus, the half-time show involved about 50 middle schoolers riding around the court on unicycles to the accompaniment of electronic Christmas music. It was an enjoyable evening, though I couldn't stop feeling bad that we was having fun while Tom was still toiling away on the floor. Ah well.

Today he is already back at it, and meanwhile I am girding myself to grocery-shop and to sweep road salt off the apartment floors and to clean the apartment bathroom and to hunt down a few big cardboard boxes for packing and to do a bunch of other things that are equally uninteresting to record.

Sorry these posts are so incredibly dull. C'est la vie, here in the unsettled land of moving.