I'm trying to figure out a way to fit all the material evidence of my existence into a series of cardboard boxes. In about a week, these boxes will then become Tetris blocks that I must fit into a rented truck. It's a puzzle game with higher stakes than I'm used to.

If times weren't what they are, I'd feel embarrassed for having to temporarily move in with my parents. But it's so common these days, it's practically the leading edge of fashion. Despite my best efforts and my ownership of a college degree, I've been receiving rejections and collecting my meager unemployment pittance for a year and a half, digging through couch cushions to find spare change to pay the rent on my apartment, which smells and sounds like a large Motel 6. This process is eerily similar to repeatedly smashing my own head into a brick wall until blood comes out of my ears.

I'd like to take this opportunity to extend, again, my humblest and sincerest of thanks to all of you who have commissioned me. You have helped me to attain not only the financial means to keep the electricity on and my dog well fed, but a precious measure of dignity. When I am settled in a new life some months from now, I'd like to do something to show my appreciation.

For now, I spread transparent plastic tape over the seams of cardboard boxes, and I brainstorm, and I daydream, and I hope.

Those of you looking forward to more pages of "Somnium Lupus" will have to wait until early June when the worst of the dust settles. My partner and I celebrated five years together in March, and now we will have to face the quietly yawning gap of long distance. We already divided up the DVDs, and although there was some contention over who would get to take our "Avatar: The Last Airbender" box sets, that was the easy part. Retraining my body to sleep in the middle of the bed... that won't be so easy.

At least I'll get to bring the dog with me.