Moving is stressful. Moving out and being homeless for a week before moving in is VERY stressful. But after double-checking and triple-checking that everything would go smoothly, I told myself to relax and stop being paranoid before I made myself crazy to no good end.
And that’s when everything went to hell.
I called U-Haul the day before I moved to absolutely triple-check my reservation and confirm the pickup place and time, and was assured everything was fine. So I woke up, finished packing, and when Uri, Sam and Jody showed up, I went with Jody to rent the van. At the U-Haul lot. Which didn’t exist.
We combed the neighborhood for an hour. Nothing doing. Found a payphone, called the place, which assured us there was a lot right there. Asked around, and found another U-Haul place two blocks away… which was gutted. After TWO HOURS, we found a U-Haul place, in a whole other neighborhood, by sheer accident. It was closed.
At this point, I’m completely freaking out. The guys refuse to admit defeat, explaining that their masculine prowess will be called into question if they can’t solve this for me. Can I just say at this point how much they rock for doing this? All three of them did the impossible here.
Back at my apartment, we called up U-Haul and demanded to know what was going on. Customer service assured us that I had picked up the van on time with no problems, which was news to me! We finally got them to refund the money, at least, and had to hire a livery cab to shuttle my stuff in small batches to my new apartment, where I was previously assured I could store stuff in the basement this week until the current tenant moves out.
There’s no basement storage. The landlord’s father says I can maybe store some stuff in the narrow main hallway if it won’t block foot traffic. They’re also renovating the hallway, and the walls are half-stripped of paint.
By 3:30 AM, a third of my stuff is in the hallway of my new Harlem apartment. A third of my stuff is hidden carefully in my office in the hopes of not getting me fired or letting security in on the fact that I’m sleeping in my dad’s office in the same building for the homeless week, which would get both me and my dad in trouble. And a third of my stuff is in my brother’s apartment in Brooklyn, over an hour away. We also took off for two hours to watch X-Men at midnight to keep our spirits up, because boy, we so needed a good movie right then. And then I woke up at 7:00 AM to scrub my old apartment for the move-out inspection which, thank God, actually went off without a hitch.
Over the next week, I have a Lyme disease test, Shavuot, my regular work, and I somehow have to move all my stuff from its scattered locations to the new apartment. Oh yeah, and I’m scared I’m gonna be kicked out of my dad’s office and get them mad at my dad for letting me stay there, and I’m worried about my stuff screwing with the hallway renovations and vice versa. Plus, this is a lousy way to start off my relationship with my new landlord, who is probably not going to like me very much by the time I move in. All in all, I’ve had better weeks.