packing blitz

I’m moving tomorrow! Do you know how many boxes I have packed, for moving, tomorrow, first thing in the morning? If you did not hold up any of your fingers at all, and instead shook your head sadly at me and sighed, long and hard, and wondered if I’d ever make anything of myself, well, you’d be right. I have no boxes packed, and I am supposed to be moving, tomorrow.  No, not supposed to be–I have to move tomorrow. There is no other day for moving. Tomorrow, that is the day I move, come a water-soaked hell of my own making.

It’s been busy, here in my house, and I have had visitors, and then so much work to catch up on, and then extra work piled on, and then I went away for the weekend, and then I ran out of excuses and my house still remained–remains–unpacked, and mocking me with the freedom of all its goods, just sitting around unboxed and uncarryable. Can’t we just ferry individual books out into the U-Haul and up the stairs and place them gently in various positions around the floor of the apartment? Can’t we line to grab a handful of spoons and fill our pockets with socks and carry a pot on our head and a toaster in our pants and march over to the new place? Why’s it got to be a whole rigamarole, with the boxes and the tape and the putting things in boxes and then taping them up and then carrying them and then breaking all the tape I just carefully applied and unboxing everything? It seems very inefficient.

It won’t take very long, though. That’s the good thing. It should take
like, an hour max to throw a couple of boxes into shape and then load
stuff up and stick them in the corner. I just need to get up and
assemble the suckers, which are sitting in my office in a giant stack,
and find some tape and some markers and some labels because the boxes
have been scribbled over so many times if I want to know what’s in
them, I’m going to have to label the suckers all organized and stuff. 
And then I just have to put on some rockin’ music which is loud and
which I can sing along to (I will create a Bon Jovi Pandora station, I think), and before I know
it, I will be so finished and sipping sangria out on the front stoop, watching the cat get into wacky
hijinx, and wondering what all the fuss was, and why I have got to
complain about everything.

And then, tomorrow, I move, with the help of the wonderful boys who say that it’s going to take like, an hour max to
take all those stacked up boxes out to the truck and then drive them
five blocks away and then carry them up three flights of stairs and
drop on the floor with a lot of hate and animosity toward me and my
propensity for buying heavy stuff that no one could possibly have any
use for. I am sure they will say, “Really, Anne? You really need a desk?
What are you actually going to do with a television, a futon, or seven
boxes of shoes? Why don’t we just leave it all for your crazy landlord to sell for crystal meth?” And at some point, when it is
100 degrees and I hate my life, I will agree. And then moving,
tomorrow, she will be a breeze.

5 Replies to “packing blitz”

  1. Anne, you make it sound so easy.
    I am in the process of extracting myself from a roommate who has suddenly decided to move after saying she was going to find another roommate. Why is this a headache? This is a headache because I did not take my name off the lease because I was trying to be a good citizen and save her $200 in lease alteration fees. So now she decided she’s leaving AFTER the 60 day notice has passed, so our apartment complex is now fining BOTH OF US 2 months of rent. So not only has she tried to get me to help her pay ~$3000, she is denying I ever said I was leaving.
    And we haven’t even gotten to the recently discovered container of gasoline she was keeping in the closet IN OUR APARTMENT. Which has a gas stove. Which is on the 6th floor. Which doesn’t have sprinklers. She denied any knowledge of where the gasoline smell was coming from several months ago, so I assumed for the last 4-5 months our downstairs neighbors were making meth or cocaine or whatever horrible drug requires gasoline in the refining process. I opened my windows for the last 6 months so I wouldn’t develop cancer from the fumes.
    So now I’m trying to track her down to get her to sign something that will remove any obligation from my name, legally. I asked her to do it two days ago. She didn’t do it. The irresponsible idiot is currently in Chicago. Because redoing candidacy isn’t enough shit icing on the shit cake that is graduate school, I have to worry about being legally associated with this moron and this small matter of $3000.
    To think I was worried I’d offend her by asking her to pay for my furniture that she broke.

  2. Your initial description of moving (picking up a pocketful of forks, etc) perfectly mirrors what I did for four months earlier this year. So, in fact, you CAN do it that way…but it’s not for the faint of heart.

  3. We once saw these three guys move using a single furniture dolley. For two days we watched them go from one house a few blocks on one side of us, to another house a few blocks on the other side of us. First it was their couch, then their TV, then they got down to the smaller things that they just piled on the dolley and rolled on down the street.
    I mean, we assume they were moving. Either that or robbing someone very, very slowly.

  4. Hey, the fact that you have to pack should make you feel very industrious. I mean, you just moved to Utah from San Fran and you already have everything unpacked? I moved to Portland OR 10 years ago and still have boxes that are taped up!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *