Shoes and Boxes

Today was a semi-fruitful day. I dropped my veterinary license application off at the Oregon Veterinary Medical Examining Board office and picked up the juris prudence test which I hope to finish tonight. On my way toward downstairs from the office, I noticed a note on the door leading to the staircase. It mentioned something about regular exercise being good psychologically and physically, and I have a hunch they were referring to the benefits to be had by taking stairs instead of the elevator. I was just then entering the staircase, and was pleased that someone in our sedentary society had similar thoughts.

I wandered around in the Lloyd Center mall (because "people" talk about it and I had never been there), looking at shoes which were too expensive. I informed one clerk (who wanted to help me) that after I start my job I might have more money for the shoes in his store -- they weren't really all that expensive -- just too "spendy" for my red-hued financial situation. I thought about taking myself ice skating in the mall, but didn't have time/didn't really feel like going alone/would have felt weird with all the people watching as they walked by. (The ice rink is among a bunch of stores and can be viewed from at least two floors of the building.)

I searched the Woodburn Company Stores for suitable, affordable (isn't it interesting how relative this term is?) shoes for church and work. I ended up buying hiking shoes that were on sale that I didn't need immediately but will need in the future. Desirable shoes were present at the stores but I didn't feel like paying the money. I decided to make my other shoes last a while longer -- I'll resurrect my leather boots and glue my Eastlands and wear thicker socks with my aired-out Timberlands and all will be well.

I then went on the famous moving box hunt, hitting the produce departments of WalMart (!), Shop'n'Kart, and Safeway. The ladies near/in said departments wouldn't smile but were helpful; the guys were both smiling and helpful. Hmm.

Those of you who have never moved have been deprived of the emotions and olfactory sensations to be experienced in such a hunt. Your character is incomplete as long as it misses the joy experienced over a treasure trove of Dole banana boxes. You have neglected opportunities to garner object lessons for children's meetings and topics. Not every box is created equal. Each is initially made to fill a particular role, and that role may not outfit it for retirement activities like housing Claire's books and junk. Tomato boxes are sturdy but small, fabulous for breakable items and keepsakes. Refrigerator boxes are perfect for children's hideouts and planetariums, but they would be heavy/unwieldy if filled with items. Banana boxes are an easy size to handle and can contain a fair amount of clothes, but their partially open bottoms are not the best for heavy books. See, it's like the variety of personalities among people.
Er, enough of that object lesson.

I got some good boxes and will start packing soon.