I feel the need

I feel the need

Monday, September 7, 2015

Sarah's a Single Parent #2: Moving.

Good evening.  

I've spent much of the day on the couch because, as it turns out, I'm not 22 and I can't load and unload a moving truck in 90 degree heat two day sin a row without being on the couch the third day.

So Peaches has moved out.  She's in an apartment.  This week she's pretty much alone since her roommate is out of town and will be moving in next weekend.

This past week was an odd one for me, since I had to do a lot of things I haven't done, mostly because Hubby has always taken care of them.  But Hubby is in Colorado seeing his sister, so the move and all the details of the move fell to me. I know a thing or two about moving, but still...it's a bit of a task.

By the time Friday night rolled around, I'd secured a Uhaul, boxed up a few things for Peaches, and had a sturdy crew made up of 3 high school and two grade school boys to help us move the furniture out of the truck and into the apartment.  (and thank you to my friends, Jolene, Beth, Karen, and Melissa for sending me their sons.)

Friday night was all about loading.  And for loading the truck all we had was Skippy and Peaches and me.  And since both kids had to work late, the loading of the truck was not going to happen until after dark.

But before we get to that, let's talk about my Uhaul driving skills. Prior to Friday I had none.  In fact, on Friday, I had no navigational skills, as my friend Shawn will attest.   She was the one who was nice enough to say she'd drive me to the truck place. I thought I knew where the truck place was.  It was at the self storage place on Bluemound.

Fun fact:  There are three self storage places on or near Bluemound.  And we stopped at two of them before getting to the right one.  Pam, the truck lady, was amused.

Pam, the truck lady reminded me of an older version of my friend Julie, a southern transplant take no
Had to put a couple cars on the lawn to clear up the
garage and the driveway.
crap sort of lady. By the time Shawn and I managed to find the truck place, Pam was laughing at me and giving me grief in a way only a lady of Southern US extraction can.  Then we had to sign the truck contract.  She asked me a few questions I expected, but then she asked me how many miles I was going to drive.  I told her about 15 total.  Then she gave me my bill. It was $15 more than I thought it would be. 

A minute later, I realized why.  "Oh, you're charging me a buck a mile."

"No shit, Sherlock," she said with a charming Southern accent.  "You thought you'd get those miles for free?"

Shawn was laughing.

Shawn stopped laughing when Pam asked her a bunch of personal questions, like name, phone number, address.  Turns out, I needed an emergency contact in case I died in a fiery crash with the truck or  stole the truck and went on a cross country spree, they needed a second person to contact. And, since Hubby is in another time zone, and Shawn was right there, Shawn was my contact.

The next thing was the amount of gas in the tank.  Pam said, "You've got 15/16ths of a tank."

What I heard was, "You have 1/15 of a tank."

This took up the entire driveway.
It took her a few minutes to explain that no, the tank was nearly full, and I'd best return it with the same amount of gas.

What I heard was, "You have to pull this vehicle up to a gas pump and put gas in it."

I was terrified. But hey, moving is moving, and there was no one else who could do it.  So I signed the contract, paid the bill, and got in the truck. First thing I looked for was the rear view mirror.  

In a 10 foot UHaul.


Okay. next thing I had to do was look out the windshield. Which I could do.  Because of the giant cardboard price tag they have in the window.

That took me a hot minute to get out. 

At this point I couldn't hear Shawn, who was driving my Cube, but I knew she was laughing at me.  Which is a big part of the reason I had her back the truck into my driveway.  

After the kids got off work, we got to loading. I should mention this week it's been hotter and more humid than it's been most of the summer. Yay us.

Skippy has helped a number of friends move, so we put him in charge of getting stuff in the truck in a manner that would keep things from shifting while I was driving on Saturday.  Not an easy order given the fact that I wasn't used to driving a truck around corners. There would be shifting.

When you load a moving truck in the middle of the night people take notice. I never realized how many people walk late at night. Or maybe, like when there's a fire truck on our street, everyone just same out to stare and point.  Yeah, I probably deserve that. When there's a fire truck on our street, I'm the first person to leave my house and stare and point.

Our neighbor Al came out of his house at about 11:30. The kids, at this point, were singing the theme music from "The Office"  (no words, just a lot of screeching melody) and cussing at each other and boxes.  We weren't exactly a subtle bunch and it was late.

"What's going on here?" Al asked me.

I felt like that comedian Bill Envald, who does that thing about people asking stupid questions and then you say something sarcastic and then you say, "Here's you sign."  

So when Al asked me what was going on, I wanted to say, "Oh, we're just getting ready for a formal tea party.  Here's your sign."

But I didn't. Mostly because it was 11:30 at night, I'd been up since 5 AM and I was sweating in a way I hadn't in a long time. Very pore clearing, but also very stinky.

We finished loading about midnight.  We showered and went to bed.

Skippy worked Saturday, so I had to line up a moving crew because I knew there was no way Peaches and I were going to unload that truck and drag her stuff up a flight of stairs.  

Loading and unloading her lamps and wall hangings, which took up my entire Cube, took me long enough.

It took my crew of 3 high school students and 2 grade school students under 30 minutes to unload the truck. To compare, it took them less time to unload the truck than it did for me to back the truck into a parking space. I didn't want to call Shawn and ask her to back the truck up for me...I didn't want to be that lame...but I probably should have.  Although, if I had, then Jolene wouldn't have had a good healthy laugh.

Once all the stuff was in the apartment and the boys all sent home with their wages  (best money I ever spent) Peaches needed a "few things" so I took her to that big box store no one likes and $90 later she had a shower curtain, bath mat, a toilet brush, a plunger, and my old microwave cart.  (Hubby doesn't really know about that yet.)  

I was going to make her hang up the shower curtain by herself, because as we all know, that's the WORST job ever.  But she was so pitiful.  "Aren't you going to help me?"

Turns out, maybe she does need me a little yet.

I didn't cry. I want everyone to know I didn't cry. At least not because she was moving.  I cried a little when it looked like she and I were the only ones unloading the truck. I cried a little at the thought of driving a large vehicle through traffic.

But, as it turned out, it all turned out.  Sure, she still has some stuff at the house, and this week we have to get her hooked up for internet.  (Something else I've never done without hubby) but hey, I'm CRUSHING this single parent thing these two weeks so far.

Just don't ask me to back up a truck.

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