Back to the Big CIty

Last seen amidst a city of boxes, yours truly has moved into town and is well on her way to having all those same boxes unpacked. The move itself was not effortless - the spirits and bodies of the crew were doused by torrential rain, and there are several flights of stairs that the crew leader professed to be shocked by though that info was written clearly on all the forms. These were professional movers, being paid, and I was a little surprised by the whining. They wouldn't last ten minutes on the rock and roll road crew. Gee whiz. They were reluctant to do a relay of boxes - couldn't figure out how to do it unless there was one mover for each floor. It was taking forever, and it seemed to me that one of the three was making twice as many trips up and down as the other two, who spent a LOT of time in the truck.
Finally, my dear friend Rick came by with his bad knees and his good humor. He assessed the situation and promptly bought the guys a restorative pizza. Then he and I started handing boxes off the truck and ferrying them into the building. I think we shamed the movers into actually... well, actually MOVING.
So at the end of the afternoon I was here in my new apartment, surrounded by boxes once again. This time they were to be unpacked, and broken down, and taken downstairs as cardboard flats. Here is what I have discovered: there is no box marked FRAGILE that movers do not want to put a box marked HEAVY BOOKS on top of.There is a way to tear a hole in a mattress without tearing the bag it is wrapped in. It's possible to mark a wall with a down pillow. And with pizza, as with all things, timing is everything. In the end, nothing important got broken.My pets are fine. My guitar is fine. My china is fine (all these things came in my car).
And I am fine, and so very glad to be back in New York City.