(10) Moving Service Estimates.
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Our moving company's estimate was based on a phone conversation, during which I was asked mostly about the furniture we were moving. She asked, "Are you moving a refrigerator, washer/dryer, oven...etc.?" My response to most of her questions was "No." What she forgot to ask was whether we were moving a university-sized library with us. Based on our phone conversation, she estimated 2800 pounds. When the movers arrived and their eyes popped out of their heads, we knew we were in for an unfortuante cost hike. Upon delivery, the movers let us know that we had hit 5800 pounds. Our estimate went up by 50%. Our lesson - get the price locked in up front.
(9) Discovering Your Crap during Packing.
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Fortunately, my husband did not have the hobby I did in my 20s - buying and collecting crap. I must have been afraid of disposable income back then because I traded it in for junk. In return, I have heaps of crap. What is my definition of crap? Items used to fill glass bowls such as wooden balls, pine cones, and potpouri; wall hangings that even your grandmother would think were old and tasteless; and votives that haven't been used since they were on display in the store. And the list goes on for miles.
(8) Spousal Friction.
I've only been married for 2.5 years, and we have already moved twice. My husband has countless positive traits, but finding direction in chaos isn't one of them. He freezes as a deer in headlights in these situations, while I become militant and want to rid my environment of any deterent from my mission. However, I must say that, to his credit, my husband has been wonderful in completing tasks such as cancelling/setting up electricity, cable, and vehicle insurance and registration. Complementary traits in a husband and wife. Hmmm, I think there's something to that. I should write a book.
(7) Plant Shock.
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The bigger the plant, the more shock it experiences during a move. This plant used to be full and beautiful. My husband says that I've killed it before (by simply moving it across the room) and it came back, and he believes I'll bring it back again. Nevertheless, I threaten it daily with trash pickup, and trash pick up occurs 4 times per week here in Hoboken.
(6) Sedating and Traveling with Your Pets.
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The kitties are not good travelers. Period. They also don't like to be trapped in the bathroom when there is heightened activity throughout the house. Additionally, Haydn gets car sick from in-town driving. This is a terribly out-of-focus picture, but I think the point is clear. Even his third eyelid is up from the sedative.
This doesn't quite convey how sick he actually was, though. My husband came quickly out of the bathroom at one point, standing in front of the door blocking me from entering. "I just want you to know that Haydn is really really sick. I just found him laying with his head in his own pee." I was frantic! The sedation medication is funny. Even though he weighs more than Wayne, he can't take nearly the dosage she can. (Yes, Wayne is a girl. Happy to tell you why if you want to know.) I hope I remember that for next time!
(And no, Lisa, I consulted an attorney, and this accidental poor mothering on my part doesn't give you parental rights to Haydn.)
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(5) Exhaustively Searching for Necessary Items.
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All of my underwear was hiding in an unmarked box for several days. I hadn't wanted to label it because I was too embarrassed. Well, obviously I'm telling YOU, so I must have gotten over it. Next time, I'm going to write it in big bold letters!
I also lost my cell phone during the packing process. It was a terrible disaster. I didn't have Lisa's number memorized, and I was in a state of panic! I finally found it and had missed 15 calls. What has this world come to that losing a phone could be so traumatic.
(4) Packing Precious Items in Black Trashbags.
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I lined a box with a black trashbag before carefully loading my yarn stash inside. In an effort to give the movers as many boxes to take away as possible, I pulled out the sack and sat it to the side. I then proceeded to collect trash in black trashbags. A few days later, I heard the trash truck coming down the street and almost canned my hobby all together.
(3) The Previous Tenant's Home Decor and Maintenance.
I knew before moving in that I was going to re-paint the red master bedroom in a more muted color. I planned to paint the room the evening between packing and delivery. Instead, I spent the entire night priming the room (4 times!), and had to finally stop and get the apartment ready for the delivery. No sleep between starting to pack and finishing delivery. I think it was 40 hours before I went to bed.
And I don't think I need to say much about the owner's home maintenance than what this picture of the air filter conveys.
(2) Losing Track of Time.
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Continuing from number 4... With no sleep, I was on fumes. My husbands birthday was on delivery day. I forgot. Bless his heart, he was relatively forgiving about the whole thing. I still feel badly, and I continue to try to think of a way to make it up to him.
(1) Discovering All of Your Crap Arrived Safely at Your New Place.
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The absolute worst feeling I had was when I started opening boxes and realized that the stuff I thought was junk on the origin end was packed and arrived safely at the destination. And, I PAID for it to be moved. Now, I'm physically paying for having to move it all to the curb. I am trying to sell some of it on CraigsList, but I'm impatient now. I just want it out!
Don't get me wrong though. There are many positive things that have come from this move. I'll share them with you in the next post.
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