Moving II: Bruises

Everything has been moved out of the old apartment.

First, I geared up.  I slummed local businesses, hat in hand, day and night for days, to get boxes, bringing them home in waves because Gloria could only fit so many.  I also bought some new ones from the storage place anyway.  And I got additional supplies like duct tape and bubble wrap.

Then (predictably) I got sick with bronchitis, and lost an entire week.

Then I packed and packed and packed and packed and packed and packed stuff by myself, putting maybe a 20% dent in the total content, and hauled all of that down and out to the garage.

Then I rented a hand truck from Home Despot, and called Cross and Doom and Took and Uriel and begged them to come help me move the furniture.   And they did.  (After they went to see the new Clash of the Titans, which they said was worth paying matinee price to see, but not full price.)  And they also helped me pack and move some of the more important small items (constituting together with the furniture about 35% of the aggregate, maybe more).  So I owe them big.

Then I used the hand truck to move all the stuff that was in the garage over to the new apartment, and hauled it all up and in by myself.

Then I spent my weeknights moving random objects over directly, and unpacking boxes in order to be able to use them again  (emptying out maybe another 5% of the total.)

Then I dug in and started boxing, bagging and rolling up what remained, getting it out the door and down into the garage any way I could, including by kicking it down the stairs, emptying three major storage areas and most of a fourth, constituting another 30% of the aggregate.

Then I gave up and called Longstreet and the Empress and begged them to come help me, too, even though Longstreet has a bum knee and the Empress has been laid low for almost two weeks with the bronchitis she got taking care of me when I had it.  And they came and helped me clean out the final closet, and the kitchen, and throw away all the garbage and recycling, to take down the final 10%.  So I owe them, too.

I am very, very tired, and covered with scratches and bruises from unforgiving pieces of particleboard and cardboard corners.  (Not to mention coughing and sneezing and hacking from dust and pollen;  hooray for Spring!)  I have no idea how I’m going to get all the crap that is now in the garage over and up and into the new place, if only because there doesn’t seem to be anywhere to physically put it.  And once I do, I can expect to be going through boxes for–  conservatively speaking?–  the rest of the summer, I’d say.  At least.  But we hit the first mark.

Enough of this crap.  I’m going to see Dragonia.