I’m All Moved Out, or In, or…

August 25, 2012

Remember my litany of reasons I need to move? It’s gotten better since I turned in my notice. And I don’t mean that in a literal way. I mean it in that my landlord was, indeed, surprised that I was moving and he wished I’d told him sooner. And then he asked when I was moving out. And I told him that the plan was that I’d move my furniture on the 25th. A few evenings later I heard scratching sounds on my steps, like maybe someone was timidly knocking on the door. When I went to see who it was, I found the handyman scrubbing the steps. He was surprised to see me. My landlord had told him I wouldn’t be there, so it was okay to repaint the steps. I told him I was moving my furniture out on the 25th, so he might want to wait until after that. He asked where I was moving to and agreed that I’d probably be happy there, especially since he bet it would get plowed regularly in the winter. (Scary when the handyman recognizes this as a deficit of your current living arrangement!) He said he wouldn’t paint until after I moved but the he’d finish cleaning the steps, so I should be careful because they might still be wet when I went outside. Saw my landlord about a week later and he asked when I was moving out because he wanted to start showing the apartment. I reiterated that I’d be out by noon on the 25th. Yesterday when my mom and I went to start loading out some boxes, there was a note on the door from the handyman stating that my landlord wanted to know when I was going to move out so that he could paint the steps. I didn’t respond to that one. I figured he’d get the message when he found my keys in his box today.

Because, that’s right, I don’t live there anymore!

I paid my first month’s rent and the rest of my security deposit and picked up my keys on Wednesday. On Thursday, my parents and I loaded up the trailer and my dad’s pickup and my car and moved vast quantities of boxes. (Of course, if you pack everything in small U-Haul boxes, it takes a lot more boxes. On the other hand, it also means that they are small enough to be carried pretty easily.) We repeated the process on Friday. And today my heroes came to move my few pieces of furniture. Josh and Andy are the best cousins in the world. Shawn has done an awesome job raising her boys, the proof being seen in Drew coming with his Uncle Josh to help move my furniture. (Teenage boys can be so useful!) Ryan may have spent most of his time in dad mode, but I still made excellent use of his height. Someone had to get my wind chime taken down.

I cannot thank my Uncle Phil, Josh, Andy, Drew, Issa, and my dad enough. You have helped me move multiple times. (Or most of you have. Drew was still in elementary school the last time I moved. And Issa wasn’t needed.) Andy, I’m serious. If you need me to help you move next weekend, you know where I live. Literally. You just moved my mattress and box springs into my apartment. There is no way I could have done this without all of you. I doubt you realize just how lame my mom and I were after moving so many boxes out of my old flat. My mom will happily do the math to tell you how many steps we climbed. I prefer not to think about it.

And now I’m surrounded by boxes. But I have my kitchen mostly unpacked. And I have my bed made. (By my mom. It’s a tradition for her to make our beds the first time in our new places. She did it each time my brother and I moved into the dorms in the fall and each time I’ve moved into a new apartment. It’s her little house-warming gift.)

And now, I think I’m going to go for a swim. Because I can. I can see the pool from my balcony, and no one else is using it, so no one will mind if I move the rope dividing the shallow end from the deep end so that I can easily swim laps. Life is good.

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