The Move From Hell Part 2--In Which We are Not Robbed, and Bed Bath and Beyond is My Best Friend

We spent a largely sleepless night on the air mattress in what will eventually be our bedroom. Because I had not figured out how the thermostat worked (or where it was, for that matter) and we only had a fitted sheet and a regular sheet that had been in my laundry bag to put on said air mattress, it was a chilly night. So chilly that at some point I sat up to the husband grumbling incoherently while throwing our coats on top of us for extra warmth. The cat, for her part, was hidden in the laundry room, which she had decided was where she was going to wait out all the noise and unfamiliarity.

We finally got up at some early hour and I spent a terrifying ten minutes looking for my house keys (I just moved here! How did I lose the keys ALREADY?!) only to open the front door....and find them hanging in the lock. Where they had been all night.

(Keep this image, and all its implications in mind, because it makes what happens later all the more funny, in a bizarre "jeez woman what's wrong with you?!" sort of way.)

We stumbled out into the (brilliantly sunny!) Saturday and I all but dragged the husband four blocks to Bed Bath and Beyond, because I was not--repeat not--sleeping under my itchy winter coat again. We went in for a blanket and maybe some hangers, and left with...more than that. Much more. We also went to Walgreens to get much-needed detergent so I could wash the contents of my laundry bag and the sheets...and then the husband went back to buy the detergent again because we forgot the detergent and then lost the receipt. Sigh.

We finally got back to the apartment and set about trying to figure out where everything was going to go once it got here. I did laundry, put the freshly cleaned sheets and the NEW WARM FUZZY BLANKET back on the air mattress, and tried to work on my paper, which I had mercifully remembered was due soon and was kind of worth a ton of my final grade. When we did go to bed that night, with our new blanket, I also discovered the where and how of the thermostat. Naturally. That was basically our Saturday.

Sunday was unremarkable: I worked the whole day, then came home and we worked on a puzzle of a castle in Germany until it got too dark to see.  Dinner was had, and we settled in for another, hopefully more sleep-filled night, as the movers were coming the next day. We snuggled down in the air mattress, the cat finally decided to grace us with her presence and curled up on my feet.
Things are looking up! I thought as I drifted off to sleep around 10.30.

.....and then was jolted back awake at 11.45 when the front door burst open and two men barged into the apartment.

(And no, the keys weren't in the lock this time. They had their own.)

Because I am a light sleeper (read: paranoid), I was out of the mattress and charging into the hall before the sound of the door opening had faded away. The husband, who is blind without his glasses, followed a second later, sounding very much like a bear angry at being woken from his hibernation.
I genuinely thought for a few seconds that we were getting robbed, or worse. I distinctly remember thinking but there isn't even anything to STEAL!

As it turns out, they were not there to rob us of our non-existent television. They were the building's overnight maintenance team, and had been called up because the unit next to ours had water leaking into it. Water which was likely coming from our unit. Our unit, which the maintenance team had thought was empty, hence the entering-at-almost-midnight thing. They looked about as alarmed to see us as we were to see them, and apologized profusely but they had to come in because really, miss, we need to check your bathroom because SOMETHING is leaking.

Naturally, they couldn't find what it was, so they said someone would be by the next day to take another look, and left. Needless to say, neither of us slept much that night.

Monday morning the husband left for work and I waited for the movers and the maintenance. During that time, I managed to lose an earring down the bathroom sink and was seriously starting to hate moving. The cat had stuffed herself back into her shelf in the laundry room, watching the people stomp in and out of the apartment with wide-eyed alarm.

Finally, though, the maintenance men found the source of the leak and cleaned it up (plumber coming to fix it today) and, in a stroke of good luck, also managed to rescue my earring from the drain. The movers got everything into the apartment, more or less in the spots I wanted them, and cleared out.

New apartment, plus cat. Not shown: ALL THE BOXES

And voila, we were moved in. It only took 3 days longer than it should have and shortened my lifespan considerably, but we are here and it is lovely. Even the cat has decided it's not so bad.

The moving part, though, I hope we don't have to repeat any time in the near future.

Katherine

The Move From Hell Part 1--In Which We Get the Brilliant Idea to Move!

Anyone who knew me growing up knew that my family moved a lot. I lived in two countries and had been to three different high schools in three years by the time I graduated. And with the exception of the last high-school move, I was pretty positive about the process. I liked to travel, to see new places, to meet new people, etc etc etc.  My husband, by contrast, lived in the same house his entire life and his first move was clear across the Atlantic from Europe to the U.S., which--if I understand him correctly--was a bit of a disaster wrapped in trauma and topped with a dollop of frustration. In other words, he wasn't too keen on moving after that.

Old apartment, Christmas 2010

The apartment that I had been living in for the past three years, and my husband with me for the last one year of those three was a pretty comfortable 1 bed-1bath deal north of the city. For a woman living alone with her cat, the place was downright spacious, and with the two of us it was still pretty cozy. It WAS an older building with all its old-building foibles, but those aside it was a pretty nice place.






Then, this past year, we decided that we should probably start thinking about moving. It was a pretty ephemeral idea at first--more space? Better parking? Shorter commute to work/school? Hmmmm.
And THEN over the winter circumstances occurred that led us to an irresistible offer: a 2 bed-2bath apartment right in the heart of downtown, with garage parking, for unbelievably affordable rent. Were we interested? Hell yes, sign us up!
This past week we boxed up all of our things with a plan to move on Saturday, with help from my parents and siblings. That is, until we got a notice from this new building that we could not move in on Saturday, that the building did not allow move-ins on the weekend. Okay, we said, we will move in on Friday. One day earlier, a bit more frenzied packing, but that's cool, it will give us the weekend to unpack and sort everything, right?
Right. Except for the fact that we ended up not moving in on Friday, either.
What ACTUALLY happened was we moved OUT of our old apartment on Friday, got to the new place, got told off and scolded for being too late to move IN to the new place, and basically told we were out of luck til Monday. In the meantime, all of our stuff was stuck on a moving truck and we had a bag of dirty laundry, an obscene amount of wine, and an air mattress (but no pump) in our car to tide us over til Monday.
To say we were frustrated was an understatement. We were both supposed to work on Monday, so I called my boss, who was kind enough to work some schedule magic that allowed me to close Monday night, rather than work my midday shift.
We went to Target to pick up some things we knew we would need over the next two days (air mattress pump, cat food, popcorn--yes, we needed it, SAYS ME) then went for dinner, picked up the cat (who we had left at the old place under the assumption that it would be easier for her if we unloaded the moving truck first and then came back for her that evening. Alas) and went back to our new, very empty abode.

And that was when things took a turn for the truly annoying.

More on this tomorrow! For now, sleep must happen so I can get to work on time tomorrow morning.

Katherine

Let's Pretend February Didn't Exist This Year

Oh my heavens, this is embarrassing.

The only thing more embarrassing than admitting I've basically abandoned my blog for the better part of a month is admitting that this point won't have much substance to it (I'M SORRY!) because I'm currently half-buried in boxes.

Yes, boxes. Oh, did I not mention that we moved?

And that it was a disaster of proportions only slightly less epic than the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius?

Yes, about that. I will be writing about that VERY SOON.

But first, I must go finish unpacking the boxes.

And then, after the boxes are unpacked and the cathartic, key-smashing rant about how I AM NEVER MOVING AGAIN NOPE is written, we will (hopefully) return to our regularly scheduled program (that is to say, if past posts are to be believed, never).

Until then, I can only offer my apologies for the silence. I am sorry. And I WILL be back. *famous last words*

Katherine