There has been so much going on since the move officially began that it's been impossible to post any new entries. I've gone to bed every night so incredibly tired that I would fall asleep sitting straight up with the TV on. I'm close to doing the same now because I drove for 12 hours today (and 12 hours yesterday) but I seem to be getting a second wind. Let's see how long it will last. There is so much to tell I will have to do this in multiple parts and I'm sure I'll only get through one tonight.
The real rush started right after I got back from apartment hunting in California. As soon as I got back I had to plan a yard sale and get rid of everything that wouldn't go in the apartment. All my yard stuff was sold by about 9:30am -- two lawnmowers, a leaf blower, a weed eater, two garden hoses and an outdoor storage locker, not to mention other various gardening tools. The rest went more slowly but I was able to sell most of the big things I couldn't take with me and give away the small ones. I had to sell my refrigerator, washer and dryer, and the day I posted the ad on Craigslist I decided to do my laundry in case it might be the last time. So I posted the ad, got to the third load and the washer QUIT. After 12 years it was suddenly useless -- the basin stopped spinning although it kept making a horrible noise -- I decided $50 or more to fix it wouldn't be worth the $25 I'd probably get for it so I gave it to the Salvation Army along with my dryer. The thing about the dryer though was that it still worked. My mom bought it around 1982 but it still worked. God's little sense of humor I guess. No one was going to buy a 1982 dryer without at least a washer to go with it, that's for sure. So that was that.
You know how once something breaks you think that's probably as bad as it will get? Don't ever think that. The day the Salvation Army was to come over I had to disconnect the washer so they could take it out of the house. I got the cold water hose off just fine but the hot water valve wouldn't turn off. It was in the off position but hot water kept coming out. I had to leave the hose connected or else hot water was going to spew all over the kitchen. So I tried to find a way to turn off the hot water at the heater so they could at least get the washer out of the house. But as it turned out, my lazy landlord who did all the work on the house himself didn't put a valve at the top of the hot water heater so I couldn't turn it off. Which means he didn't install it to code (he also painted the windows shut so it's not like I was surprised). So long story short, the Salvation Army had to come twice: once for everything but the washer, and then back to get the washer after my landlord fixed the valve. And to top things off he couldn't find another hot water valve so he got a cold water one, took my Sharpie and wrote on the wall above them "Hot" and "Cold." Whatever works I guess. Not my problem.
I made over $400 from the sale. At least that turned out the way it should have.
So after that was over I found myself talking to movers and utility companies in between trying to work on the site and earn a living. It was a lot harder than I expected. I needed to get multiple estimates, which meant having at least two different surveyors in my house to tally up all my stuff and guess its weight. One guy was so busy I almost gave up on him until he offered to come at 6am. I said go ahead. So I actually had a surveyor walk through my house at 6am to do an estimate. In the end I didn't even go with that company. I ended up with an affiliate of Atlas, which after this experience I would highly recommend. I've never seen a couch wrapped in blankets, then wrapped in plastic and set on its end in a truck, knowing the whole time that this is better than I will probably ever treat the couch myself, and I not only bought it but paid to have it recovered. But I digress.
The movers told me on a Wednesday that to have me in Foster City the week of 8/10, they needed to have me packed and loaded on Monday 8/3. That Wednesday it became real for the first time. I panicked. I lost two pounds. And over the course of the next week while I got ready I lost two more. I drove to Austin one day to get my hair cut and see some friends for the last time, and then drove back the same night. I spent the weekend before the movers showed up at Lake Bridgeport with 16 of my sorority sisters, which is something we had been planning for six months. And while all this was going on, I was packing and organizing and working and connecting utilities and freaking out. The cat started acting out and hiding my earrings. She got her point across too because I have yet to find one of them.
But the stress only continued to build. The more I dealt with the moving company, the more I learned about what they would NOT take and what they would NOT be responsible for, so the "car" pile of boxes got bigger and bigger. I already knew there would be two cars on the trip but this was getting ridiculous. I was still packing my part the night before the movers showed up (they were to do the real packing) and I didn't even finish before I collapsed and had to go to bed. So while they were packing me the next day and my dad was helping take apart furniture, I was still growing the pile. And growing my stress along with it. Luckily the driver told us that no matter what the forms said, it was really his decision what to take and what not to, and he would go ahead and take most of my art supplies and some other things that the forms clearly stated they would not transport. So the car pile shrunk to an almost manageable size, the movers left, and at the end of the day we finally loaded up our boxes and a tranquilized cat who had spent her entire day hiding in the corner of the bathroom behind the claw foot tub and drove to Oklahoma City, where I was to spend the next week at my dad's while the movers filled the rest of their 53-foot truck with other people's furniture.
And thus begins a whole other journey, which will be continued when I'm conscious again. So stay tuned.
The real rush started right after I got back from apartment hunting in California. As soon as I got back I had to plan a yard sale and get rid of everything that wouldn't go in the apartment. All my yard stuff was sold by about 9:30am -- two lawnmowers, a leaf blower, a weed eater, two garden hoses and an outdoor storage locker, not to mention other various gardening tools. The rest went more slowly but I was able to sell most of the big things I couldn't take with me and give away the small ones. I had to sell my refrigerator, washer and dryer, and the day I posted the ad on Craigslist I decided to do my laundry in case it might be the last time. So I posted the ad, got to the third load and the washer QUIT. After 12 years it was suddenly useless -- the basin stopped spinning although it kept making a horrible noise -- I decided $50 or more to fix it wouldn't be worth the $25 I'd probably get for it so I gave it to the Salvation Army along with my dryer. The thing about the dryer though was that it still worked. My mom bought it around 1982 but it still worked. God's little sense of humor I guess. No one was going to buy a 1982 dryer without at least a washer to go with it, that's for sure. So that was that.
You know how once something breaks you think that's probably as bad as it will get? Don't ever think that. The day the Salvation Army was to come over I had to disconnect the washer so they could take it out of the house. I got the cold water hose off just fine but the hot water valve wouldn't turn off. It was in the off position but hot water kept coming out. I had to leave the hose connected or else hot water was going to spew all over the kitchen. So I tried to find a way to turn off the hot water at the heater so they could at least get the washer out of the house. But as it turned out, my lazy landlord who did all the work on the house himself didn't put a valve at the top of the hot water heater so I couldn't turn it off. Which means he didn't install it to code (he also painted the windows shut so it's not like I was surprised). So long story short, the Salvation Army had to come twice: once for everything but the washer, and then back to get the washer after my landlord fixed the valve. And to top things off he couldn't find another hot water valve so he got a cold water one, took my Sharpie and wrote on the wall above them "Hot" and "Cold." Whatever works I guess. Not my problem.
I made over $400 from the sale. At least that turned out the way it should have.
So after that was over I found myself talking to movers and utility companies in between trying to work on the site and earn a living. It was a lot harder than I expected. I needed to get multiple estimates, which meant having at least two different surveyors in my house to tally up all my stuff and guess its weight. One guy was so busy I almost gave up on him until he offered to come at 6am. I said go ahead. So I actually had a surveyor walk through my house at 6am to do an estimate. In the end I didn't even go with that company. I ended up with an affiliate of Atlas, which after this experience I would highly recommend. I've never seen a couch wrapped in blankets, then wrapped in plastic and set on its end in a truck, knowing the whole time that this is better than I will probably ever treat the couch myself, and I not only bought it but paid to have it recovered. But I digress.
The movers told me on a Wednesday that to have me in Foster City the week of 8/10, they needed to have me packed and loaded on Monday 8/3. That Wednesday it became real for the first time. I panicked. I lost two pounds. And over the course of the next week while I got ready I lost two more. I drove to Austin one day to get my hair cut and see some friends for the last time, and then drove back the same night. I spent the weekend before the movers showed up at Lake Bridgeport with 16 of my sorority sisters, which is something we had been planning for six months. And while all this was going on, I was packing and organizing and working and connecting utilities and freaking out. The cat started acting out and hiding my earrings. She got her point across too because I have yet to find one of them.
But the stress only continued to build. The more I dealt with the moving company, the more I learned about what they would NOT take and what they would NOT be responsible for, so the "car" pile of boxes got bigger and bigger. I already knew there would be two cars on the trip but this was getting ridiculous. I was still packing my part the night before the movers showed up (they were to do the real packing) and I didn't even finish before I collapsed and had to go to bed. So while they were packing me the next day and my dad was helping take apart furniture, I was still growing the pile. And growing my stress along with it. Luckily the driver told us that no matter what the forms said, it was really his decision what to take and what not to, and he would go ahead and take most of my art supplies and some other things that the forms clearly stated they would not transport. So the car pile shrunk to an almost manageable size, the movers left, and at the end of the day we finally loaded up our boxes and a tranquilized cat who had spent her entire day hiding in the corner of the bathroom behind the claw foot tub and drove to Oklahoma City, where I was to spend the next week at my dad's while the movers filled the rest of their 53-foot truck with other people's furniture.
And thus begins a whole other journey, which will be continued when I'm conscious again. So stay tuned.
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