July, you are dead to me.
*falls over*
Of all the fucking things. of all the fucking things.
...starting over at the beginning.
So this weekend! It has pretty much been a horrible suckfest of packing! I am convinced I will never be done! I hate everything!
Oh and my car broke.
So this morning we were trying to get all the electronics in boxes so we could take them up to the new place, because I am crazy paranoid and do not feel like trying to keep tabs on the boxes for every console currently in existence and several from generations past when STRANGERS ARE TOUCHING MY THINGS. So it's agreed that Mike will take the first batch, and I will stop by Panera for lunch on the way, and things will proceed thence to the planned shopping et cetera.
So I get to Panera. I buy my salad and Mike's sandwich. I go back out. I get in the car. I put it in reverse and back out of the parking space. I put it in drive. It lurches horribly, the steering column starts vibrating like a high-powered Ultra Hitachi Magic Wand, and it makes A Noise.
I try not to panic. I put the car in park. I say to it, "Boco, this is not the time. Please, God, I'm begging you, don't." I put the car back into reverse, then neutral, then drive. We're fine until we get to drive. Then Boco resumes his imitation of a super vibrator.
I swear. I try not to cry. I get the car mostly back into the space, wincing at every vibration of the wheel, and call Mike, still trying not to cry. He's like "All right, I'll be there soon." I hang up and call AAA.
I would just like to take a moment to say, God bless AAA. I have had only one moderately-bad experience with them, and believe me, I get my money's worth out of my membership. Every fucking time. This particular time I had forgotten to renew my membership. It had lapsed for over a year. The gentleman in the Emergency Roadside Services transferred me to a lovely young woman named Erica in Membership Services. She was incredibly pleasant, efficient, and friendly without being grating. She was sympathetic and pretty much just damn awesome. She got my membership renewed, told me the name of the tow company that would be coming, and said "It'll be there between now and 12:30." It was 11:35.
So I hang up with her. Mike shows up. He fidges and admits he has no idea but it might be the transmission, which was already my assumption. We park the car. He orders me to eat my lunch because it will make me feel better, which is true. I eat my delicious fruit-covered salad. The tow truck guy shows up faster than I've EVER had a tow show up before (granted every other time was during morning or evening rush). He gets the car on the tow truck, and I tell him to take it to the Firestone at $INTERSECTION, because I have done some homework on my phone. I remembered that that particular Firestone is open Sundays, and moreover, it is only 2 miles from my apartment and 1 mile from the train, and I know they are open late on weekdays because I have been there at 7 pm and they were still open, which means I could walk there after work from the train. Hurrah!
The tow guys tows me. (Sidenote: nicest, least skeevy tow truck guy I have ever dealt with, and believe me, I've had the dubious pleasure ten or more times in the last 5 years, though this is the first time with this car. The fact that he was wearing a T-shirt for $CURRENT_TOWN's fire department probably helped with the trustworthy factor.) The Firestone guys are very nice and sympathetic, but tell me that they don't do transmissions, but might be able to recommend me to the place across the street. I say fine, and explain that i'm still under warranty from CarMax (thank you, paranoia, for making me finance that extra $2K for 3 years' full warranty!) They say they'll look at it, $22 diagnostic fee. I thank them and hand over the keys. Mike puts me back in the car and we go do our shopping--cat food, and then to Target for a mini-fridge, an ironing board, and a laundry hamper for him, and then to Lowe's. Our primary goal at Lowe's was a vacuum cleaner, but we also wanted to get some birch veneer to cover the oopsie we made when we put together one of the bookshelves with the nailed-in shelves backwards. d'oh.
So I find the vacuum cleaners, and get a helpful (and entertaining) employee to get down the one I picked out, which says it is designed specifically for pet households and will vacuum up fur like no tomorrow. I go find Mike, who is having no luck finding the veneer. He says he's talked to two different employees and can't articulate what he needs well enough for them to direct him. I say I'll give it a try, and fall back on the brainless ditz routine if I have to. (I don't anticipate I'll have to.)
Walk up to the next employee I see. Smile, and say "Hi, I hope you can help me. I was putting together a bookshelf and I nailed in a couple of the shelves backwards. I need some veneer to glue on over the rough edges, so it looks nice." Guy smiles back and says "Aisle 49" and even points in the right direction.
As we're walking away, Mike goes "Huh. I didn't think of trying to explain what I *wanted to do,* instead of the *item I wanted.*" Which, you know, explaining what I'm trying to do is my default starting point, so I'm perplexed by this explanation, but whatever.
Anyway. We get the veneer. We stop at Best Buy and get me new computer speakers so I can take my stereo off my desk and put it in the bedroom (I'm not sure why Mike wanted that to happen, but it's fine by me.) Found a very nice set of Logitech ones for $63. Took those back to the new place. Came back down here. At this point it is readily apparent that I'm not going to get to go swimming today like I really wanted to. I suck it up and act like a grownup. We start packing again, but I've already hit saturation on I HATE MY LIFE for the weekend and am doing a desultory job at best.
Phone rings. The Firestone guy babbles some incomprehensible mecha-jumbo at me; I discern that he means they are done investigating, and say I will be by shortly. Mike drives me over there. In person the mecha-jumbo is more comprehensible, although I still didn't actually understand what it meant. The gentleman explained that the bushing on the transmission mount was busted, and that was what was making it vibrate. I asked was it safe to drive the mile or so home. He thought about it, repeated that they are not a transmission shop, and said "probably for a very short drive you're okay, but you don't want to push it or you'll bust the others." I thanked him, paid him, and drove home.
It vibrates like hell when I'm stopped or speeding up, but once I get into fourth gear and am cruising, it's fine. I get it the 2 miles home. I park it. I go inside and resume packing. We get some more stuff done, then order dinner since all the dishes are packed (yes, I'm living off carryout for the next week. I'm a little stressed that I won't have a car to do it with. Perhaps I'll be eating in the next town over via El.) Mike unbolted my wrought-iron shelf from the wall. Then he headed home with the booze collection and the Rock Band instruments, and now I am in a mostly gutted apartment trying to calm down. A long, hot shower helped a lot.
So, the net progress:
Bedroom: 100%!!!
Living Room: 70% (still needs desk and misc. jumbles)
Kitchen: 80% (tupperware, misc bits left. We did a sort-and-toss on the pantry and threw half of it out; I threw out half of the freezer; the fridge has already been sort-and-tossed; we're set.)
Linen Closet: 70%. Misc bits.
Bathroom: 20%.
The good news is that I am very significantly under my rough estimate of how many boxes I'd have, so it doesn't matter if I just start slinging stuff helter-skelter into more boxes. I'll still be well within my estimate. and I'mr eally down to the funky-shaped stuff and the shnibbles. (Still have to deconstruct and pack the candles and things, which requires wrapping, but a couple hours a night should get it all done.)
The other good news is that my extended warranty from CarMax DOES cover the stuff the guys at Firestone said was probably broken, and covers towing. I'll call them tomorrow to arrange a tow for Friday morning, and then they can give me a loaner car until they're done fixing mine (as they do), and I should be able to get the whole kit and caboodle done for my deductible on service plan of $50. While it's there, I'll probably also have them recharge my A/C, which badly needs it, and replace my wiper blades.
Objectively I know that I have done a ton of packing with Mike and wrenbow's help, but part of me is so exhausted and over-stressed that I can't even begin to deal. Earlier today I sort of dispassionately (and divorced-from-self-edly) observed that I had hit my max-stress coping mechanism, which consists mostly of "hide in the corner and hope nobody notices me and wants to hurt me," which is. You know. Not a helpful mechanism. I managed to actually vocalize this to Mike, who patted me and gave reassurances, so. At least I am learning to recognize when I am trying to run away and hide like a four-year-old.
And now, I am going to play Persona 3.
Of all the fucking things. of all the fucking things.
...starting over at the beginning.
So this weekend! It has pretty much been a horrible suckfest of packing! I am convinced I will never be done! I hate everything!
Oh and my car broke.
So this morning we were trying to get all the electronics in boxes so we could take them up to the new place, because I am crazy paranoid and do not feel like trying to keep tabs on the boxes for every console currently in existence and several from generations past when STRANGERS ARE TOUCHING MY THINGS. So it's agreed that Mike will take the first batch, and I will stop by Panera for lunch on the way, and things will proceed thence to the planned shopping et cetera.
So I get to Panera. I buy my salad and Mike's sandwich. I go back out. I get in the car. I put it in reverse and back out of the parking space. I put it in drive. It lurches horribly, the steering column starts vibrating like a high-powered Ultra Hitachi Magic Wand, and it makes A Noise.
I try not to panic. I put the car in park. I say to it, "Boco, this is not the time. Please, God, I'm begging you, don't." I put the car back into reverse, then neutral, then drive. We're fine until we get to drive. Then Boco resumes his imitation of a super vibrator.
I swear. I try not to cry. I get the car mostly back into the space, wincing at every vibration of the wheel, and call Mike, still trying not to cry. He's like "All right, I'll be there soon." I hang up and call AAA.
I would just like to take a moment to say, God bless AAA. I have had only one moderately-bad experience with them, and believe me, I get my money's worth out of my membership. Every fucking time. This particular time I had forgotten to renew my membership. It had lapsed for over a year. The gentleman in the Emergency Roadside Services transferred me to a lovely young woman named Erica in Membership Services. She was incredibly pleasant, efficient, and friendly without being grating. She was sympathetic and pretty much just damn awesome. She got my membership renewed, told me the name of the tow company that would be coming, and said "It'll be there between now and 12:30." It was 11:35.
So I hang up with her. Mike shows up. He fidges and admits he has no idea but it might be the transmission, which was already my assumption. We park the car. He orders me to eat my lunch because it will make me feel better, which is true. I eat my delicious fruit-covered salad. The tow truck guy shows up faster than I've EVER had a tow show up before (granted every other time was during morning or evening rush). He gets the car on the tow truck, and I tell him to take it to the Firestone at $INTERSECTION, because I have done some homework on my phone. I remembered that that particular Firestone is open Sundays, and moreover, it is only 2 miles from my apartment and 1 mile from the train, and I know they are open late on weekdays because I have been there at 7 pm and they were still open, which means I could walk there after work from the train. Hurrah!
The tow guys tows me. (Sidenote: nicest, least skeevy tow truck guy I have ever dealt with, and believe me, I've had the dubious pleasure ten or more times in the last 5 years, though this is the first time with this car. The fact that he was wearing a T-shirt for $CURRENT_TOWN's fire department probably helped with the trustworthy factor.) The Firestone guys are very nice and sympathetic, but tell me that they don't do transmissions, but might be able to recommend me to the place across the street. I say fine, and explain that i'm still under warranty from CarMax (thank you, paranoia, for making me finance that extra $2K for 3 years' full warranty!) They say they'll look at it, $22 diagnostic fee. I thank them and hand over the keys. Mike puts me back in the car and we go do our shopping--cat food, and then to Target for a mini-fridge, an ironing board, and a laundry hamper for him, and then to Lowe's. Our primary goal at Lowe's was a vacuum cleaner, but we also wanted to get some birch veneer to cover the oopsie we made when we put together one of the bookshelves with the nailed-in shelves backwards. d'oh.
So I find the vacuum cleaners, and get a helpful (and entertaining) employee to get down the one I picked out, which says it is designed specifically for pet households and will vacuum up fur like no tomorrow. I go find Mike, who is having no luck finding the veneer. He says he's talked to two different employees and can't articulate what he needs well enough for them to direct him. I say I'll give it a try, and fall back on the brainless ditz routine if I have to. (I don't anticipate I'll have to.)
Walk up to the next employee I see. Smile, and say "Hi, I hope you can help me. I was putting together a bookshelf and I nailed in a couple of the shelves backwards. I need some veneer to glue on over the rough edges, so it looks nice." Guy smiles back and says "Aisle 49" and even points in the right direction.
As we're walking away, Mike goes "Huh. I didn't think of trying to explain what I *wanted to do,* instead of the *item I wanted.*" Which, you know, explaining what I'm trying to do is my default starting point, so I'm perplexed by this explanation, but whatever.
Anyway. We get the veneer. We stop at Best Buy and get me new computer speakers so I can take my stereo off my desk and put it in the bedroom (I'm not sure why Mike wanted that to happen, but it's fine by me.) Found a very nice set of Logitech ones for $63. Took those back to the new place. Came back down here. At this point it is readily apparent that I'm not going to get to go swimming today like I really wanted to. I suck it up and act like a grownup. We start packing again, but I've already hit saturation on I HATE MY LIFE for the weekend and am doing a desultory job at best.
Phone rings. The Firestone guy babbles some incomprehensible mecha-jumbo at me; I discern that he means they are done investigating, and say I will be by shortly. Mike drives me over there. In person the mecha-jumbo is more comprehensible, although I still didn't actually understand what it meant. The gentleman explained that the bushing on the transmission mount was busted, and that was what was making it vibrate. I asked was it safe to drive the mile or so home. He thought about it, repeated that they are not a transmission shop, and said "probably for a very short drive you're okay, but you don't want to push it or you'll bust the others." I thanked him, paid him, and drove home.
It vibrates like hell when I'm stopped or speeding up, but once I get into fourth gear and am cruising, it's fine. I get it the 2 miles home. I park it. I go inside and resume packing. We get some more stuff done, then order dinner since all the dishes are packed (yes, I'm living off carryout for the next week. I'm a little stressed that I won't have a car to do it with. Perhaps I'll be eating in the next town over via El.) Mike unbolted my wrought-iron shelf from the wall. Then he headed home with the booze collection and the Rock Band instruments, and now I am in a mostly gutted apartment trying to calm down. A long, hot shower helped a lot.
So, the net progress:
Bedroom: 100%!!!
Living Room: 70% (still needs desk and misc. jumbles)
Kitchen: 80% (tupperware, misc bits left. We did a sort-and-toss on the pantry and threw half of it out; I threw out half of the freezer; the fridge has already been sort-and-tossed; we're set.)
Linen Closet: 70%. Misc bits.
Bathroom: 20%.
The good news is that I am very significantly under my rough estimate of how many boxes I'd have, so it doesn't matter if I just start slinging stuff helter-skelter into more boxes. I'll still be well within my estimate. and I'mr eally down to the funky-shaped stuff and the shnibbles. (Still have to deconstruct and pack the candles and things, which requires wrapping, but a couple hours a night should get it all done.)
The other good news is that my extended warranty from CarMax DOES cover the stuff the guys at Firestone said was probably broken, and covers towing. I'll call them tomorrow to arrange a tow for Friday morning, and then they can give me a loaner car until they're done fixing mine (as they do), and I should be able to get the whole kit and caboodle done for my deductible on service plan of $50. While it's there, I'll probably also have them recharge my A/C, which badly needs it, and replace my wiper blades.
Objectively I know that I have done a ton of packing with Mike and wrenbow's help, but part of me is so exhausted and over-stressed that I can't even begin to deal. Earlier today I sort of dispassionately (and divorced-from-self-edly) observed that I had hit my max-stress coping mechanism, which consists mostly of "hide in the corner and hope nobody notices me and wants to hurt me," which is. You know. Not a helpful mechanism. I managed to actually vocalize this to Mike, who patted me and gave reassurances, so. At least I am learning to recognize when I am trying to run away and hide like a four-year-old.
And now, I am going to play Persona 3.