moved
so, we're officially moved in. it went pretty well, all things considered. like an idiot, i scheduled the at&t guys and the furniture guys to come the same day as the movers, so it was going to be a circus. our plan was this:
1. wake up at the butt-crack of dawn (extra points if you can tell me what movie that's from), pack the rest of our stuff. this meant throwing whatever wasn't stapled, glued or nailed down, in a box.
2. throw bijou in a carrier and drive over to the condo to wait for the furniture delivery guys. i get to do this because scott can't drive my car. he got to stay behind and wait for the movers to show up. the movers were supposed to be at the apt. at 8am, the furniture guys at the condo around 9. oh, and the phone guy. can't forget him.
3. get to the condo, let bijou out. she promtly crawls to the bathroom and hides under the bend in the pipe behind the toilet. refuses to budge.
4. i'm supposed to call at&t to confirm appointment. but i left the number somewhere (who knows) and i don't have internet to look up the number. i call information, who can only give me the number to the local at&t businesses. uh, that's no good. so i call my sister, who helped me look the 800 number, with some difficulty.
5. call at&t. woman tells me that my phone service has already been hooked up and should be working. can i plug in a phone to test it out? lady, i don't even have toilet paper here, let alone a land phone (not like a land shark). so i have to trust her until the phones get here.
6. while i'm waiting, i manage to find, in one of the 10 boxes we had brought over the night before, the wireless thingie for the computer. i plug that in to see if i have service. red light. no signal. thanks, at&t. i knew it was too good to be true.
7. by this time, it's about 8:15. scott and i have already called each other a million times. he calls again to say the movers are there. groovy! operation Tiny Condo has begun relatively on time.
8. he calls back 10 minutes later. "these guys are totally insane!" i guess they had already taken all of the boxes down to the truck.
9. i hear a truck outside. i'm concerned the furniture guys aren't going to be able to find the place because we don't have numbers on our building yet. i look out the window and sure enough, it's them. i run downstairs and show them the alley and they start hauling up the couch and the loveseat. huzzah! i have something to sit on!
10. i lock bujou in the bathroom and head back over to the apt. it's like a masoleum, it's so empty and echo-y. i follow the movers around with the dustbuster, sucking up huge dust rhinos of cat hair every time they move a piece of furniture. as for the fossilized cat barf under scott's couch, well, let's say i just covered it with the couch that was going to be staying behind.
11. it's at this point where we decide to leave everything that's still there to my sister. she can use my wedding dress for something, right?
12. back to the condo. the movers start hauling stuff up to the third floor. i make jokes like, "i bet you guys will be hitting the gym when you're done, huh?" yeah, i'm hilarious.
13. they rapidly fill the condo with boxes and furniture. soon, it becomes apparent that we didn't get rid of enough stuff. the second bedroom soon only has about 1 square foot to move around in. surely they moved someone else along with us? this can't possible be all our stuff??
14. we order pizza. they finish, they eat, we tip, they leave.
15. we look around, wondering where to sit.
the day went pretty smoothly. we didn't see them drop anything, but i noticed that some things had dings in them or dents. but nothing too bad. we tried to cram some stuff into our storage locker, but the key didn't work. brilliant. our whirlpool also still didn't work. but we carried on. i hated it more and more as the weekend wore on. the stress of trying to find a place to put all 100000 pieces of tupperware and trying not to step in the catbox every time you peed really started to wear me down. oh, and let's not forget the ton of crap you left behind at the apt that we still had to pick up and the chem exam i had to study for. and after lifting 500 boxes and junk up the stairs, i was totally done.
so i better like this place because we're never moving again. ever. you can send our retirement checks to this address.
1. wake up at the butt-crack of dawn (extra points if you can tell me what movie that's from), pack the rest of our stuff. this meant throwing whatever wasn't stapled, glued or nailed down, in a box.
2. throw bijou in a carrier and drive over to the condo to wait for the furniture delivery guys. i get to do this because scott can't drive my car. he got to stay behind and wait for the movers to show up. the movers were supposed to be at the apt. at 8am, the furniture guys at the condo around 9. oh, and the phone guy. can't forget him.
3. get to the condo, let bijou out. she promtly crawls to the bathroom and hides under the bend in the pipe behind the toilet. refuses to budge.
4. i'm supposed to call at&t to confirm appointment. but i left the number somewhere (who knows) and i don't have internet to look up the number. i call information, who can only give me the number to the local at&t businesses. uh, that's no good. so i call my sister, who helped me look the 800 number, with some difficulty.
5. call at&t. woman tells me that my phone service has already been hooked up and should be working. can i plug in a phone to test it out? lady, i don't even have toilet paper here, let alone a land phone (not like a land shark). so i have to trust her until the phones get here.
6. while i'm waiting, i manage to find, in one of the 10 boxes we had brought over the night before, the wireless thingie for the computer. i plug that in to see if i have service. red light. no signal. thanks, at&t. i knew it was too good to be true.
7. by this time, it's about 8:15. scott and i have already called each other a million times. he calls again to say the movers are there. groovy! operation Tiny Condo has begun relatively on time.
8. he calls back 10 minutes later. "these guys are totally insane!" i guess they had already taken all of the boxes down to the truck.
9. i hear a truck outside. i'm concerned the furniture guys aren't going to be able to find the place because we don't have numbers on our building yet. i look out the window and sure enough, it's them. i run downstairs and show them the alley and they start hauling up the couch and the loveseat. huzzah! i have something to sit on!
10. i lock bujou in the bathroom and head back over to the apt. it's like a masoleum, it's so empty and echo-y. i follow the movers around with the dustbuster, sucking up huge dust rhinos of cat hair every time they move a piece of furniture. as for the fossilized cat barf under scott's couch, well, let's say i just covered it with the couch that was going to be staying behind.
11. it's at this point where we decide to leave everything that's still there to my sister. she can use my wedding dress for something, right?
12. back to the condo. the movers start hauling stuff up to the third floor. i make jokes like, "i bet you guys will be hitting the gym when you're done, huh?" yeah, i'm hilarious.
13. they rapidly fill the condo with boxes and furniture. soon, it becomes apparent that we didn't get rid of enough stuff. the second bedroom soon only has about 1 square foot to move around in. surely they moved someone else along with us? this can't possible be all our stuff??
14. we order pizza. they finish, they eat, we tip, they leave.
15. we look around, wondering where to sit.
the day went pretty smoothly. we didn't see them drop anything, but i noticed that some things had dings in them or dents. but nothing too bad. we tried to cram some stuff into our storage locker, but the key didn't work. brilliant. our whirlpool also still didn't work. but we carried on. i hated it more and more as the weekend wore on. the stress of trying to find a place to put all 100000 pieces of tupperware and trying not to step in the catbox every time you peed really started to wear me down. oh, and let's not forget the ton of crap you left behind at the apt that we still had to pick up and the chem exam i had to study for. and after lifting 500 boxes and junk up the stairs, i was totally done.
so i better like this place because we're never moving again. ever. you can send our retirement checks to this address.
posted by mikraas at 12:06 PM
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