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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

Don't forget about me.

Found a place to live.

A trailer/house off the highway near the river just outside of town. Quiet, remote and surrounded by trees. A couple of bedrooms, a woodstove and an enclosed sun porch. Just what the doctor ordered. Although, truth be told, the kitchen is a scary eyesore. I might slap some paint on the cupboards just to brighten it up. It is totally 1960's trailer trash kitchen except for the appliances. But I can deal.

Movers dropped off *most* of my stuff yesterday, my television and a couple of bags missing (but apparently found and will be delivered later this week). Then this morning, I checked out of the hotel, dropped the rest of my things (luggage, etc) and Bailey off at the new house before hiking it back into town in time for work.

I have to tell you I'm already exhausted.

I don't have a car yet, the cab fare is about 30 dollars roundtrip, so I'm feeling a bit anxious about that. I still need some basic things for the house but am so tired and frazzled that they will have to wait until I have more time and inclination to get it all done.

Work seems good, I really like the people so far. Only39 days until the Ireland trip, then a long summer here in the Northwest Territories. I will try fishing again. As long as I don't have to kill what I catch.

Gotta run.
I am sure there is something else I forgot to do.
Email me, call me, text me.
Don't forget about me.

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