and we’re off.

Poor Ted didn’t get off to a great start this morning. I got a text at 6:40am saying, “Are you up yet?” I said, “I am now,” and the next one said, “Sorry. Funny thing happened. I just locked myself out of the house.”

So I got up and called him, obviously, not that I could do anything from a hundred and forty miles away. He eventually got a key from the estate agent and the movers came in and packed more or less everything into the van, and just called to say they’re on their way up here (the movers, not Ted. Ted, hopefully, will be here Wednesday evening.). No real ETA other than “this afternoon/evening”, so I guess I’m going to have some lunch and then spend a couple-three hours writing before going over there to vacuum up cruft before the movers arrive to track more cruft in. If I can just finish this chapter, that’ll be enough. *rubs face*

Arright. Once more: onward.

miles to Isengard: 31.3
music in my head: Bon Jovi, Novocaine