Poor Richard was right

What a rough day.

I've been in Pennsylvania for about a month now; Amanda and the kids for a couple of weeks. Moving is generally a wretched experience, but doing it half-way across the country on a limited budget is downright dreadful. Things are in a roughly livable state at the apartment, but we have to climb over boxes to get anywhere. Boxes. Oh Boxes. Moving boxes. Opening boxes. Re-closing boxes. Moving boxes again. Stacking boxes. Smashing boxes. Taping boxes. Folding boxes. Flattening boxes. And generally living out of boxes.

Most of our stuff came to Penna in the containment of two PODS (otherwise known as really big boxes <puking sound>). The great people I work with gave me the opportunity to store a good portion of our stuff at one of our company sites, saving us the hassle and cost of a self-store facility. Knowing that most of our things would store rather than make it to the apartment, we had the PODS delivered directly to the company site. For two weeks we've been making trips back-and-forth to stock the things we need. I've been spending a chunk of my time at work actually working on the unload into the building. Particularly in the last couple of days. Apparently the site where the PODS are sitting doesn't exactly meet with the covenants or regulations of the property management. So we've been in a mad dash the last couple of days trying to finish the unloading process.

That leads me to today. I was granted a half-day off, so Amanda and I took advantage of some early-morning good behavior from the kids to lazy in bed for a while. I always know this is a bad idea, but it never seems to stop me. I really love my bed while I'm in it, but it inevitably seems that too much laziness in the morning will lead to a difficult and non-productive day. I really should trust Franklin's "early to bed, early to rise" axiom; I know I'm rewarded when I do. The "early to bed" part is a whole other problem to tackle.

This morning's sloth led to an unwillingness to be productive in my half-day of work, so things are now piled up and waiting for me on Monday. I couln't even convince myself to use the time wisely for the unloading of boxes... boxes... boxes... I finally kicked myself in gear on this around 5 p.m., and shortly after that Amanda showed up with the kids. We attempted moving the kids inside to my office to watch a movie, but my computer was uncooperative in playing the DVD. We finally got another one to play, but it didn't occupy their attention very long. So we stocked them up with some toys and told them not to leave the office. This was important not only for their safety, but also for my job security. Just outside my office are our production network systems, and one curious and ill-chosen pull of a cable could bring things down. Hard.

The kids only halfway-minded, a minor injury insued in the form of a finger caught in a door, and our limited patience as parents and movers of boxes... boxes... boxes... was quickly whittled away, and all that seemed to be left were exhaustion, short tempers, and boxes. (I'm beginning to think that boxes are related to rabbits.)

I'm ending my day feeling like a bad parent and a bad husband. I resent that all of the work tied into the moving process has led me to neglect the things I hold most dear.

I've missed "early to bed" again, but I'll admit I needed the wind-down time tonight. Tomorrow I rise early and intend to redeem this lost day.