- although we thought this was true until the moment we left, -actually, until the moment we returned- it was not. we have so much shit, our shit has shit. Despite the fact that we had already dropped off a 17ft truck's worth of stuff, and made numerous car trips AND gotten rid of 3 car loads of shit between goodwill and the dump, we were unable to get all of our stuff in a 10ft truck Sunday (note: I disavow all involvement with the 10ft truck. I always vote for 17, but I delegated rental duties this time to a boyfriend I know to be cheap and he rented the 10. It was not big enough, I don't want to talk about it) Mental note: HN is a delusional optimist when it comes to his packing skills, never believe him. His packing skills are pretty sweet and he's also pretty hot, but he's just a shade this side of realistic. Or that side I guess. Whichever side is not how it really is. I know the move was made much easier by the fact that we'd done all that pre-work but fuck me running, there were still piles all over the damn place. ALL OVER THE PLACE. and it didn't all fit in the stupid truck, so we had to leave some to go back for today.
2) That I handle stress well; as in the stress of moving.
- I definitely felt the pressure, but I thought I had it under control. Then I realized HN was talking to me in soothing tones and rubbing my back alot while we were moving things on Sunday. Then I realized other people were talking to me in soothing tones too, perfect strangers like the lady at the pizza joint who can always be counted on for a little attitude. She took one look at me when I walked in to pick up lunch and the next thing you know I'm sitting down having a free sode while I wait. So I don't know what I looked like, but I must be delusional too. I've also been informed that I grind my teeth while sleeping. It's a very recent thing and all the soft tones and sympathetic looks yesterday make me wonder if I was more stressed over the move than I thought I was. At least I know why my jaw and teeth have been hurting. I thought I had a cavity or something, which would be the bullshit because I floss like I get paid for it and I've all but cut out Skittles which was a big deal at the time.
3) That Kitty likes riding in the car.
- Still baffled over this one! Dude was such a pro on the ride to and from New Mexico. He was the Mad Dash Surfer, counting the little white dashes in the road from the safety and delight of my lap all the while purring up a storm and just overall behaving. He was the best road kitty I could ever have wanted on those trips. Tonight it was like an angry, hateful, travelsick little alien replace my beloved kitty. The cat crate somehow got moved to the new apt and I failed to notice. Which means I failed to bring it back when we went to pick up the final load of our shit, including cat which meant that I had to make the drive myself with him in hand/lap. Normally I'd just let him go free in the car and not care where he wedged himself in for the ride, but the tailgate was necessarily a bit ajar and he demonstrated once that he could and would fit out of it and so in the disinterest of Kitty as a roadburger, I decided he had to be up front with me for the ride. (don't even get me started on the car. I believe HN again about what would fit in it, and again his optimism was not a bonus. Lesson learned, I won't dwell) So we spent the ride with Kitty freaking out, me throttling him a little, squeezing him just enough to let him know he was making me unhappy, then I would sing/talk/whatever to him to try to chill him out. He'd go limp, I'd think he settled back in to being Mr RoadTrip Americat and we'd start the whole thing over again. Honestly, you think I'd stop falling for it, but I never do. Due to adjustments, the 20 minute ride was a 50 minute ride. K-boy was psyched to see the basement when he got here and I'm pretty sure he's going to try to trip me down the stairs soon.
4) That you can only put a few things on a car roof.
- I really thought this one had limits until tonight. I think we had as much on top of the car as in it. We had: (1) giant kitty condo of doom (4) MDF boards for shelving (1) Folded up old school metal X-Pen (2) 50 ft lengths of hose which I wanted to leave behind and HN insisted we take, I think out of spite for FFFO (2) kitchen chairs and something else that I forget. It was straight out of the beverly hillbillies. I think the freestyling cat in tow really put us over the top. I wish I'd taken pictures but I was busy freaking out, which it turns out is very tiring work. Fretting is not just for hausfraus anymore!
5) That just because I've lived in small kitchens before, the downsize should be easy enough to adjust to.
- I'm sure I'll get used to it eventually but my new kitchen is about 1/4 the size of the old one and only has 3 things of cabinets up high. This is going to be difficult to adjust to. Dishes have to go in 2 of them, spices and cooking needs in one. Stay tuned as Kerry attempts to adjust to having to put her food in cabinets* down low. Quelle Horror!! Why this horrifies me so much I couldn't tell you, but I'm really having a hard time with it. (* Actually make that cabinet, singular. There's only 3 sets of down low cabinets, and 2 are looking likely to fill up with pans. I got a lot o pans, man. All I can say is thank god for the campaign of eating everything in our cabinets. Otherwise, it would be worse. Much worse.)
6) That I am strong and/or know what hard work feels like.
- Does this mean I'm old now? Until very recently (like this morning) I would have told you that I feel like a fairly strong person. I had damn near convinced myself that I was in league with farmers or ditchdiggers in terms of strength and stamina for manual labor. Turns out this is a bunch of bullshit, and I am actually a very soft person. After today's full day of moving I am barely able to make it up and down the stairs without resting and my hands are all puffy and sad and they hurt from being used. Bending over to pick up something off the floor is like a 60 second committment right now: I'm busy and don't have that kind of time to spare so I'm just leaving it there until it gets easier. Hello room service? I'll have 1 beer and 4 advil please. Hello? Helloooooo??? And yet my cries go unanswered. Le Sigh.
At some point this week I'll share things that I thought to be true that I was right about. Sometimes the truth really does hurt!
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