Recap: a week and a half ago, I was given permission to break my current lease because of a horribly leaky ceiling that would require a torn-up ceiling. That didn’t bother me as much as the landlord’s lack of communication skills, which was the main reason to really break the lease. That and I could find a place cheap enough that I could save more for school. I found my place that night, and after a week of keeping on top of the management company, I finally got myself a signed lease. After that same week of not being able to get a hold of the old landlord, I was finally able to talk to him and get some papers signed. The scene was finally set.
Thursday before I stop to sign the lease, I go pick up my Uhaul -- a very large van that I could keep until Sunday night. I wind up being late to the lease signing because the trash pick-up truck was blocking my van. I was concerned I wouldnt get there in time to sign the lease (just something else that would have gone wrong), but I still get everything set. I get to the old place, get some things together, then Julie comes to my place to help. We load up shelves and kitchen stuff, and are on our way around 9pm. We pull up in my designated parking (an illegal parking spot directly behind a stop sign, but directly in front of my door), and I stop. Then I remember where the keys to my new place are.
At my old apartment. In my purse that I didn’t want to take with me.
So we go back to the old place, I get the keys, and go back to the new place. Julie and I get out and go to the back of the truck to unload.
That’s when I realize: I locked the truck keys in the truck with it running. Seriously.
We laugh (what else can you do at this point, I’ve been running on adrenaline for days already). We get ignored when we ask passers-by to use their cell phone (ours are in the truck). We don’t have the number for AAA anyway, and no businesses around have a phone book. Not even the neighborhood gay bar a few doors down has one.
Then, salvation -- Julie sees a tow truck coming down the road, and she jumps in front of it, practically getting killed. We stop him, ask how much it would be for him to get into my truck, and he says $25. Fine, whatever, just get my keys out of the truck. He does this, we give him money, and we’re on our way. It’s 10:45.
We unload into the hallway, pull the truck into the alley, then start hauling things into my new place. As we’re doing this, I meet my new neighbors: 3 Russian girls living in the studio apartment next door, who are on their way to the fire escape to smoke while wearing only tank tops & panties.
...What? Julie & I laughed. This is surreal. It’s like we’re in every man’s fantasy. (Which, when I told the guys at work the next day, they ALL offered to help me move. Though I’m sure they wouldn’t be all that helpful at that point.)
We got everything in and decided to call it a night. We drive back to my place, and try to find parking.
We’re looking for parking. At 1 am on a Thursday. For a HUGE Uhaul van. ...right.
We eventually find parking, a mile away, west of Ridge Rd. We walk back, and I’m in bed at 2am.
... Just as a side note, I’ve be getting to work early this week -- by 7am everyday -- because of a HUGE project that had an astronomical amount of expenses and invoicing that had to be out before I started moving. So between that and the move, it’s no wonder I’m so tired I locked the keys in the truck. But I digress.
Friday went well. Work was still busy, but Mary and I were able to move all my sewing stuff and put up shelves without a hitch.
Saturday morning I decide to take a load in before I go to my Chemistry class at 9 am downtown. I decide to take a load, drive to class, then have all my furniture donations in the van already so I can drop them off between class and picking up my mom from the train station. I get up at 5am, get things packed, and realized that moving even small furniture can be a two-person job. I’m not going too fast, but getting to class a half-hour late won’t kill me. I get to the new place, load everything in the elevator, and head up. I start unloading everything into the hallway, but the door is heavy and eventually closes. Then it goes up a few feet and stops.
The elevator just broke.
The elevator just broke with all my bedding, towels, and cleaning supplies. I’m surrounded by boxes of heavy books. And somehow, I realize I’m on the 4th floor, not the fifth, which I didn’t realize before I started unloading. I'm not sure what happened, but apparently the elevator hiccuped on its way to the 5th floor. The only phone number I have is for the management office, and I don’t even know if they’re open on Saturdays. ...I hear people up and moving in the apartment next to the elevator, and I knock on the door.
It’s three some-sort-of-asian-or-pacific-descent girls in this studio (does the management company not care about fire codes?), and I ask for a number. They have one, hooray! I call the number. I had been told that the normal building manager is on vacation until Sunday, but the calls get directed to the on-call person.
Except that the voicemailbox is full, and I can’t leave a message. Dammit.
I decide to take my books that are currently in the hallway up to my apartment (at least it’s only one floor), and then try calling again. Still no answer, with the management or the building guy. Okay, fine -- I’m going to the grocery store while I wait. I don’t know the people in this building, I’m not leaving for longer than a half-hour if I can’t watch my stuff in the broken elevator.
I go, I come back. I put things away. I call -- an answer! The management company lady said she’d at least get the freight elevator unlocked, but she couldn’t tell me if the elevator could get released sooner than Monday (Monday!!!), but she had my number, and would call when it got fixed. At least I got to someone.
At this time, it’s 11:30. I’m obviously not getting to class. (Sad -- not because I wanted to learn about chemistry, but because I wanted to see the cute boy in class with whom I’ve been email-flirting.) Anyway, I decide to clean the place with new cleaning supplies I just bought (so now I’ll have stock, once I can get my stuff from the elevator), and then unpack my kitchen. It was time well-spent, at least, and I got a lot done.
I take the old furniture to the Brown Elephant on Clark (more illegal parking), and then pick up my mom. We go to the old place, start doing a few things, and then I get a few people to show up -- Jason, Amy & Dan, and Matt & one of his friends (also named Matt, that made things easy). There was lots of beer, pizza, cookies, and ice cream sandwiches. (I know how to treat my help.) We load the van. We unload the van (Matt & Matt leave after earning their beer). We go back and load the van again (Jason leaves at this point, he earned his beer), and unload (Amy & Dan left after unloading the boxsprings, they also earned their beer).
Later, Julie comes back to help my mother & I organize a bit. I wish we had remembered to take a photo of the place before we started organizing -- it was a mess. This first photo hardly does the chaos justice. So much stuff, not much space, and it looked ridiculous. I am finally completely spent, my brain is mush, Julie leaves, and my mom & I go to sleep.
The next morning we’re up early, reorganizing so we have enough room to bring the last few items and make a Target run. We leave, go to Target, drop off Target items at the new place, pick up more donations, drop off the donations (more illegal parking), then head to the old place. We clean and pack the truck, almost forgetting a number of things in cabinets (and eggs -- we almost left eggs in the fridge). I leave a note with my forwarding address and keys, and we’re out. We unload (amongst children playing basketball with a milk crate in the alley), drop of the truck (late, so I’ll get slapped with a $25 fee plus the extra mileage fee), pick up food, and head home.
My head hit the pillow at midnight, and I doubt I was awake at 12:01.
After selecting a few items to get rid of, the place is looking okay. Not cluttered (unless you go into the walk-in closet, then all bets are off). And even with my space-utilizing skills, my mom was a huge help, I know I couldn't have gotten the place like it is without here. Sure it’s small, but I’m saving money, I’ll be forced to whittle down my possessions for when I move back to Ohio in May... and I do like the place.
Today I’ll finish getting the place together and study some chemistry. Back to work tomorrow, and I don’t want to think about how much work I’ll have after being gone, but I’ll survive.
Housewarming parties will be at the end of September. Say hi to the Russians if you see them in the hallway.
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