How to move.
1. Try desperately to pin down a moving day. Upon the final commitment, email the moving company of your choice for confirmation of that move date. IMMEDIATELY upon confirmation of said date, change move date through no fault of your own. Call company back, learn rates will go up, call another moving company. Forget to give mover your phone number. Call back and re-confirm WITH name and phone number and actual address.
2. Attempt to pack. Realize that you cannot pack very well because you will still be living in the current place for another week or two, and that you can't move too much small crap over because there will be no furniture to put it on (also, it will be in the way upon moving the furniture.) Decide the best way to start getting the hell out is to move the laundry. Move all laundry. Discover complete lack of appropriate outfits for work. Spend the next week or so going back and forth between places trying to do laundry at one place despite lack of storage and trying to remember what you have clean at home in case you find a clean pair of pants somewhere in the laundry cycle. At some point, anger the cats by accidentally blocking off their litter with mounds of laundry. Wear shirt smelling vaguely of cat piss to work one day. Spend the next 24 hours desperately re-washing everything with vinegar and double detergent.
3. The night before the actual move, run out of boxes. Get depressed from staring at the unpacked mess in the bedroom. Sit on the bathroom floor with a bucket of bleach and scrub the living daylights out of the baseboards and floor and cabinets, screaming "GET THE HELL OUT" at the dog, pausing only to snap him in the butt a few times with a wet rag when he dares to get too close to the bleach. Finally, give up and scream "FINE, POISON YOURSELF AND BLEACH YOUR FUR, SEE IF I CARE" before slamming the door in his face. Proceed to crawl inside tub to clean shower, forgetting to turn the fan on for ventilation. Ten minutes later get discovered by husband, who reminds you that humans need nontoxic air to breathe.
4. Frustrated and angry, drink a shot.
5. Realize that you're doing it all wrong---you're not just "out of boxes," you are THINKING inside boxes. Remark upon your own brilliance. Pack all bathroom things inside color guard totes, garment bags and duffel bags with tiny tiny pockets.
6. Say the hell with it, put on some "Old School" rap music and have a dance party.
7. Wake up at 5:30 am the following morning and remember that it is moving day. Knit the complete toe portion of a new sock. Decide to get dressed so as not to have movers see you in your underpants. See that only clothing left besides sparkly ball gowns are one pair of ridiculously short terry cloth running shorts from 1976 in baby blue and a pilled gray old man sweater bought at Goodwill in the 90s.
8. Drive to new house with dog. Try to clear spots for movers. Lock dog outside.
9. Go tell barking dog to shut up.
10. Put away two cups. Go tell barking dog to shut up.
11. Tell barking dog you are going to make him into a rug.
12. Movers come! Stay outside with barking dog. Watch as bad dog manages to dump food dish DIRECTLY into water dish, so that both food and water are now totally useless.
13. Try explaining cat toy known as "the tank" and pairs of snowshoes to the movers. Realize there is no explanation.
14. Spend the rest of the night trying to set up furniture for the purpose of unpacking. Realize bed frame is broken. Set up mattresses on ground with bed frame leaning against wall. See that you can't actually put your things away because you can't technically reach the bookshelves and/or dresser because things are blocking them. Go to bed and resolve to do better in the morning.
15. Wake up. Where are pants? Last week was spent doing laundry, so why the hell are there no pants?
16. Steal pants from husband.
17. Go to apartment to get some things that weren't packed due to box shortage. Discover week-old laundry in the apartment washing machine. Washer is filled with pants.
18. Swear a lot.
19. Go back to house with intention of getting everything cleaned up before potluck at 5.
20. Take a long look around and realize that instead of cleaning, perhaps will have some sort of contest or raffle, and the winners have to take boxes and put them away. Yes, much better idea than actually cleaning.
That's where I am now. Sorry everyone who is coming over tonight---the house is still filled with boxes. Tough shit. I'm also a little worried because I can't find Louise in all this mess and I think she's too timid to go downstairs where her litter box is, so I'm sure I'll be doing a lot more washing in vinegar before the night is over.
Maybe I'll hire a maid.
2. Attempt to pack. Realize that you cannot pack very well because you will still be living in the current place for another week or two, and that you can't move too much small crap over because there will be no furniture to put it on (also, it will be in the way upon moving the furniture.) Decide the best way to start getting the hell out is to move the laundry. Move all laundry. Discover complete lack of appropriate outfits for work. Spend the next week or so going back and forth between places trying to do laundry at one place despite lack of storage and trying to remember what you have clean at home in case you find a clean pair of pants somewhere in the laundry cycle. At some point, anger the cats by accidentally blocking off their litter with mounds of laundry. Wear shirt smelling vaguely of cat piss to work one day. Spend the next 24 hours desperately re-washing everything with vinegar and double detergent.
3. The night before the actual move, run out of boxes. Get depressed from staring at the unpacked mess in the bedroom. Sit on the bathroom floor with a bucket of bleach and scrub the living daylights out of the baseboards and floor and cabinets, screaming "GET THE HELL OUT" at the dog, pausing only to snap him in the butt a few times with a wet rag when he dares to get too close to the bleach. Finally, give up and scream "FINE, POISON YOURSELF AND BLEACH YOUR FUR, SEE IF I CARE" before slamming the door in his face. Proceed to crawl inside tub to clean shower, forgetting to turn the fan on for ventilation. Ten minutes later get discovered by husband, who reminds you that humans need nontoxic air to breathe.
4. Frustrated and angry, drink a shot.
5. Realize that you're doing it all wrong---you're not just "out of boxes," you are THINKING inside boxes. Remark upon your own brilliance. Pack all bathroom things inside color guard totes, garment bags and duffel bags with tiny tiny pockets.
6. Say the hell with it, put on some "Old School" rap music and have a dance party.
7. Wake up at 5:30 am the following morning and remember that it is moving day. Knit the complete toe portion of a new sock. Decide to get dressed so as not to have movers see you in your underpants. See that only clothing left besides sparkly ball gowns are one pair of ridiculously short terry cloth running shorts from 1976 in baby blue and a pilled gray old man sweater bought at Goodwill in the 90s.
8. Drive to new house with dog. Try to clear spots for movers. Lock dog outside.
9. Go tell barking dog to shut up.
10. Put away two cups. Go tell barking dog to shut up.
11. Tell barking dog you are going to make him into a rug.
12. Movers come! Stay outside with barking dog. Watch as bad dog manages to dump food dish DIRECTLY into water dish, so that both food and water are now totally useless.
13. Try explaining cat toy known as "the tank" and pairs of snowshoes to the movers. Realize there is no explanation.
14. Spend the rest of the night trying to set up furniture for the purpose of unpacking. Realize bed frame is broken. Set up mattresses on ground with bed frame leaning against wall. See that you can't actually put your things away because you can't technically reach the bookshelves and/or dresser because things are blocking them. Go to bed and resolve to do better in the morning.
15. Wake up. Where are pants? Last week was spent doing laundry, so why the hell are there no pants?
16. Steal pants from husband.
17. Go to apartment to get some things that weren't packed due to box shortage. Discover week-old laundry in the apartment washing machine. Washer is filled with pants.
18. Swear a lot.
19. Go back to house with intention of getting everything cleaned up before potluck at 5.
20. Take a long look around and realize that instead of cleaning, perhaps will have some sort of contest or raffle, and the winners have to take boxes and put them away. Yes, much better idea than actually cleaning.
That's where I am now. Sorry everyone who is coming over tonight---the house is still filled with boxes. Tough shit. I'm also a little worried because I can't find Louise in all this mess and I think she's too timid to go downstairs where her litter box is, so I'm sure I'll be doing a lot more washing in vinegar before the night is over.
Maybe I'll hire a maid.
posted at 9:29 AM
1 Comments:
LOL!!
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