worst.move.ever.

[jazzfish]

God and Verizon only know when the Internets will arrive at my house. Thus, I am reliant on work for my internet connection.

Early last week I agreed to haul a bunch of jlfranklin's stuff out of his townhouse in B-burg. Seemed like a good idea at the time: I had this truck, and this way I get a bit of money back for it.

Friday night I went to see Mirrormask with uilos. I could watch the intro sequence over and over. So pretty. (There's a show tonight at 9:30 as well. Go see it. Totally worth it.)

Satyrday morning I experienced the results of Tactical Error Number One: a movie at 11:30 PM in Silver Spring will put me at home by 2 AM, which is awkward if I plan on getting up at 6:30 AM and having a full day of labor.

Dad drove the four of us (himself, me, Mom, uilos down to B-burg. At about eleven I stopped by the Budget truck rental.

There were no trucks in the parking lot. "This," I said, "does not look promising."

I walked in. "I'm here to rent a fifteen-foot truck, one-way."

"Yeah," they said, "about that . . ."

Someone was late bringing back a truck. It might be back by four.

I calmly and rationally bitched at them a bit and then went and ran errands.

At lunch I got a call from them. "We've got you a truck. It's in Roanoke. You'll have to go get it yourself.

More bitching, followed by a trip to Roanoke for the truck. (On which they /did/ give me a discount, before I even asked, and extra miles, too.)

Then packing, then the departure of parents, then more packing, then dinner, then departure from the burg at seven.

On the way to jlfranklin's house in Sterling I had plenty of time to reflect on Tactical Error Number Two: staying up late delivering furniture in order to go deliver more furniture will result in a very tired jazzfish.

Got there by 11:30, unloaded, drove uilos back to her car, and went home. Arrived home at 1:30. Realised that I'd left my keys in the house. Called Dad to come let me in. We discussed scheduling, realised that there were Problems, and loaded all the furniture into the truck that night. Gah.

And then the move itself, which went extraordinarily smoothly. This is thanks in no small part to the able-bodied assistance of selki, desfido, airncbuh, LJ-less Mo, my parents, and baranoouji, who all provided (in varying measures) heavy lifting assistance, moral support, and interior decorating tips. And also good conversation at lunch.

I slept in my own bed on Sunday night for the first time in a month and a half.

Yesterday I came home to a squishy carpet. I would have panicked about a leak but all the furniture was up against the walls as well. I can only assume that the maintenance guys decided to steam-clean my apartment.

The amount of frustration I experienced at this cannot be overstated. Can't put the furniture back down: it might mildew / rust / stain / etc. Can't do any sort of unpacking: no place to put boxes since the carpet is wet, no place to put stuff because no furniture. Can't even go to the grocery store for food: my mother and ten Ikea bookcases (Billy, largextall, medium brown) arrived yesterday and I have to store them in the kitchen because of the squishy carpet. Grr. Grr repeatedly.

In conclusion: I hate moving. Still.

Comments

[pictsy.livejournal.com]

We've got you a truck. It's in Roanoke. You'll have to go get it yourself.

Argh! This happened to me too. It's a damnable industry.