THIRTEEN "MOVING" MOMENTS
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Yes, folks, I'm moved in. I've already managed to lose stuff and haven't been on my elliptical once (do I really care? no...). But things are slowly settling and now I can look back on the event with a smile (or is that a grimace? hard to tell anymore!) as I remember some of the "good times" I had:
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1. Shoveling. And shoveling. And shoveling some more. Chipping ice off my front steps so those poor movers wouldn't fall and kill themselves--and more importantly, dent my furniture.
2. Getting rescheduled for a later time at the last minute by my moving company. Granted, it saved me about $80, but there's nothing like a little "last minute" to sprout some more gray hairs, you know?
3. Waiting for the movers to come. And waiting.
4. Flitting around the house looking for more stuff to pack, throwing anything anywhere (this all qualifies as "lost" now) just to get it packed because the movers are coming any minute now...
5. Getting a call from the movers. They're behind. They won't be at your house until after 2:00, ma'am. So sorry.
6. GAHHH!!! The cable guy is supposed to show up at 2! Where's that panic button??
7. Call friend who foolishly offered to help me. She turns into Wonder Woman, Lifesaver Extraordinaire--not only showing up with champagne, but wiping out my cabinets, cleaning my bathroom, handling the cable guy... while I wait for the movers to come.
8. Movers are two young punks who, while friendly and obliging on all counts, are slower than molasses running uphill in January.
9. I drink a glass of wine, talk on the phone, clean out bedrooms, pace and try my hardest NOT to keep looking at the clock. As it is, it takes them 2 1/2 hours to pack me. I could have taken a nap, had a massage... oy.
10. We arrive at the new place. Hooray! We're here! Life's good! The cable guy is just leaving the driveway! What great timing!
11. Movers back moving truck into power pole. All the lines go ba-whinnngg! There is a second of heart-stopping panic (holy f***! what if the pole snaps? will I get in trouble? the neighbors will hate me! what a way to make a first impression...) before things settle and the movers start yelling at each other. I have to move in and remind them that I am not paying them to squabble and let's get me unloaded. Like now.
12. Midway through unloading, I feel this strange sensation. Kind of poking, rubbing, pricking... What the heck? I look down my shirt--and my underwire from my bra (the right side, if you're interested) has left its home and is now curled around my boob. This could only happen to me.
13. I return to old house for a couple more loads and the pets. Major hiss fest when I shove Edd (the orange one) and Midnight (the black one) into one carrier together. When I open the carrier at the house, Edd has taken up the entire thing and poor Midnight is totally smooshed in a corner, behind his butt. Poor kitty!
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We're adjusting to it all, day by day. Like Dorothy said, despite all the kerfluffles, "There's no place like home."
Aren't they all sweet and happy-ever-after? I suppose for some love is a many splendored thing, complete with sunny days and butterflies. But there are a few exceptions, like:
Losing your clothes in public and having nothing to cover up with but one of Grandma's lace curtains (and boy, is Grandma going to be mad at you)!
Being up to your knees in prickly cactus (I--ouch!--love--damn thorns!--you--yeeooww!)
Being set on fire. I'm sure it's toasty, but there's no second date after this.
