It's moving season in Columbus, and I've got friends and two hands. I've spent the past week lifting two-ton oak dressers, endless long boxes of comics, top-heavy ailing TV sets, winding them clumsily around narrow staircases in 90 degree heat. All this toil, all this hassle, none of it's encouraged me to start putting my things into boxes, start arranging for myself to get myself somewhere else. I just don't feel like I'm leaving yet.
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