A Moving Experience

I've always wondered why things that happen to me are so much more traumatic than when I hear of the same things happening to other people. Gee, that is a tough one. I've also wondered why I can't see the small of my back or touch my ear with my elbow--not that I've ever really wanted to. Anyway, I have always secretly cultivated my tendency toward melodrama, and it invariably seems that other people going through the same given fraught-with-high-drama events general handle them with an equanimity I find impossible to even approach.

I will not go into the sordid details of how my move came about...my friends and anyone within earshot have heard every lugubrious detail to the point where they hasten to cross to the other side of the street when they see me coming. Suffice it to say that this past Wednesday I was informed that the movers would be showing up to move me at 8 a.m. on Thursday. No, not this coming Thursday; the day following the day I was told.

Since the move was not voluntary (I'm tempted to explain why but will resist), I was assured that I would not have to lift a finger; the movers would take care of every single item in my apartment, from the furniture to the dishes in the cupboard and the canned goods in the pantry. And yea, verily, at 8:30 Thursday morning the movers arrived.

Now, when I moved back to Chicago four years ago, I moved myself. Literally. Myself. I rented a 22 foot U-Haul and when I arrived at my new apartment, I unloaded ever stick of furniture by myself (I did have help with the mattress for the bed, which was just too cumbersome to handle alone.) The movers Thursday--four very large men--arrived with a 50-foot moving van, and filled it! They then took it to my new address--the building next door to where I'd been living, and all of 400 feet away--and hauled everything up to my new apartment. Since I had only seen the apartment once before (again, I'll spare you the details), I wasn't really sure where everything should/would/could go, so I just pointed them to general areas where I thought they'd probably end up, and basically just left everything else sitting in the middle of the floor.

They also made a point of telling me that they were paid $7.50 per hour and relied on tips from those they moved. I had to call my friend Gary to borrow some money, since I was counting on tipping maybe two movers, not four.

I got the idea from talking to the movers, who were very friendly and helpful, that this "they'll take care of packing everything" thing was news to them. The part about the dishes in the cupboard and the canned goods (and the pots and pans, and the cleaning supplies, and the contents of the refrigerator, and the miscellaneous contents of a large closet and....) was not in their job description. Therefore, while they did their best, they left a lot behind--12 trips worth by yours truly and Gary, using a hand-pulled dolly, and spread over the next two days.

I'm really not crazy about the layout of my new apartment. The living room is tiny, though there is a small dining area off the kitchen. Since I don't have a dining room table, this whole area is sort of a lost cause. The kitchen makes the living room look like Wrigley Field by comparison. A full 4 feet, total, of counter space, less than 1/3 the cupboard space of the apartment I just left. However the bedroom is fine, with ample room for my computer desk, which is where I spend the majority of my time. And a very nice walk-in closet (probably about the same square footage as the kitchen), into which I have been piling everything there is no room for anywhere else.

My TV has been hooked up, and my computer service should be (operative words) transferred by Tuesday. In the meantime I give thanks for having a laptop and the availability of coffee shops with free wi-fi...which is where I am headed in a matter of minutes to post this blog.

But I am moved, and I have one more fond memory behind me, to undoubtedly be brought out and savored when I'm in a "you poor kid" mood.

What's that? You would like to hear the whole story of how all this came about? Well, if you insist. It started with the noise from the elevated trains 500 feet from my window, and......

New entries are posted by 10 a.m. Central time every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Please come back...and bring a friend. Your comments are always welcome. And you're invited to stop by my website at http://www.doriengrey.com, or drop me a note at doriengrey@att.net.