Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Homage to the Armstrong Bathroom Makeover Disaster

I did not want to move. Don’t get me wrong I love being in Winston Salem and it is for sure the best thing we have done in our lives so far. But folks I did not want to pick up all of the stuff we own and put it into a truck/our cars/my hands and move the shit into another house where I would then have to dig through it and find places to put it away again. I did not want to do that.

So my husband and I had that conversation. I work 3 jobs. I am taking classes. I cannot help you do this. It is your priority and I have finally given in and acknowledged that we need to be in Winston Salem, but I cannot help you do this. He engaged the help of his father and I said fine. You move it. Remember that I cannot help you.

I knew that the agreement had gone South when I got the call at 8pm on day one of moving van rental. “We picked up the van. Then we bought a chair and went to the house to load the things that are going to my Dads. Now we are going to Dads to unload. None of us have eaten and we’re just going to have to load up the truck in the morning.” Oh Sweet Lord this was bad. It devolved from there to become a 2 week process of exactly what I expected. Picking stuff up, carrying it to the car, driving to Winston, carrying the shit into the house, putting it down, and then milling around in giant stacks of boxes until you find something you need. Lather, rinse, and repeat.

The I Can’t Help You conversation is long forgotten. Saturday we dug out a 4 foot by 6 foot Prickley Pear cactus. This was a remarkably easy task that only cost me one pair of leather gloves. I still don’t know how to get it to the compost facility or if they will even take it once I get it there, but it is out of my yard. I am seriously considering those things that shrink wrap bags of clothes and blankets so you can store them in small spaces. Someone at work had a box of books to give away left over from a yard sale. I checked every title in paperbackswap.com and these aren’t even my books!

We do have a Harry Potter room under the stairs… Now if I could only figure out how Harry makes it into a real sized room that holds all of his shit.

1 comment:

  1. I hear you! We were dying to get out of L.A., but the actual moving part kept us put for a really long time. And when the move finally happened, it was a suckfest. And now, kind of a blur, because everything happened so quickly and there was so much chaos.

    But unpacking things and putting them in their proper places feels so nice. I hope you're starting to get a little more settled in!