The move, continued
Yesterday afternoon there came a point where I was feeling too crappy to work. So I came home and just lied on the couch for an hour or so, unable to do anything useful and intimidated by the prospect of still having to go to the old apartment and clean. After about an hour I felt better. My stomach still hurt, but the intense fatigue -- the kind that comes over you at the initial stage of the flu -- was subsiding. So I got up, fed the baby and decided I will be able to go clean after all. I got to the old apartment around 7 pm and proceeded to clean. The baby was "helping" in every way she could, being directly underfoot and in the exactly right position to catch crumbs and dust falling from the shelves, and to offer her body as a soft landing for things that might fall out of cabinets.
At some point she climbed into a cabinet under the bathroom sink and did not know how to get out. So I rescued her and only then realized I missed a good photo opportunity. Dang those maternal instincts!
At about 8 p.m. Steve arrived, having been out for 3 hours with various errands. One of which was getting my laptop fixed. Turned out the power supply was bad. Fry's replaced it with a fancy shiny super-duper power supply that fits any laptop known to man. The "fix" took about an hour and consisted mostly filling out tons of paperwork. Because of extended warranty Fry's gave him the power supply for free, but he still had to pay with his time.
Also, despite my skepticism, RoadRunner people had come to the new apartment in the afternoon and turned on our cable internet connection. So it looks like all of my computing needs will be met during the weekend. Now, if only I had the time to do said computing...
So, having come to the old apartment at 8 p.m., Steve proceeded to fill bags with trash and take it out to the dumpster and load the remaining things in boxes and carry them to the car. I swear, it took him about 2 hours to do all that. The junk just kept coming. Every time I opened another half-forgotten cubbyhole, there was stuff there that for some reason could not be taken over to the new apartment during the "big move". Food, stray dishes, who-knows-what... It looked like the sheer volume occupied by "odds-and-ends" and trash was equal to the volume of boxes that were moved by the movers the day before.
And it's still not over. More stuff remains to be transported, because we ran out of boxes and time to pack it. We quit at around 10 p.m., once the baby got very tired and squawky, and I had more or less finished scrubbing various surfaces. Then Steve took the baby home and put her to bed, while I went to buy diapers. After baby was asleep, we proceeded to unload our cars and put things away. Again, it was almost midnight before it was done.
This morning Steve went back to the old apartment to pick up those remaining things and to do the final mopping and vacuuming. It's hard to believe, but maybe we will finally be done. And then on to the next enjoyable task: unpacking and organizing stuff in the new apartment. I've been doing it all morning. It does actually feel better than cleaning the old apartment. If for no other reason than because I can entertain an illusion that I will be better organized now because I can start from scratch in this new place.
It also gives me an excuse to go on a shopping spree to Container Store or its less stylish cousins Linens'n'Things and Bed, Bath & Beyond. I can spend a day just gawking at all the infinite breeds of "space-doubling" wire shelves. Shopping for organizational material is far more satisfying than shopping for clothes. No fitting rooms, no contemplating of thighs in the mirror, no despair for not approximating a model figure. Instead, lots of inspiration: if I just buy this 3-tier spice storage shelf, I will never again have to grope in the back of the cabinet for the damn oregano can.
But if I buy them, I will have that much more junk to haul during the next move. I guess a simple life may be an illusion after all.
At some point she climbed into a cabinet under the bathroom sink and did not know how to get out. So I rescued her and only then realized I missed a good photo opportunity. Dang those maternal instincts!
At about 8 p.m. Steve arrived, having been out for 3 hours with various errands. One of which was getting my laptop fixed. Turned out the power supply was bad. Fry's replaced it with a fancy shiny super-duper power supply that fits any laptop known to man. The "fix" took about an hour and consisted mostly filling out tons of paperwork. Because of extended warranty Fry's gave him the power supply for free, but he still had to pay with his time.
Also, despite my skepticism, RoadRunner people had come to the new apartment in the afternoon and turned on our cable internet connection. So it looks like all of my computing needs will be met during the weekend. Now, if only I had the time to do said computing...
So, having come to the old apartment at 8 p.m., Steve proceeded to fill bags with trash and take it out to the dumpster and load the remaining things in boxes and carry them to the car. I swear, it took him about 2 hours to do all that. The junk just kept coming. Every time I opened another half-forgotten cubbyhole, there was stuff there that for some reason could not be taken over to the new apartment during the "big move". Food, stray dishes, who-knows-what... It looked like the sheer volume occupied by "odds-and-ends" and trash was equal to the volume of boxes that were moved by the movers the day before.
And it's still not over. More stuff remains to be transported, because we ran out of boxes and time to pack it. We quit at around 10 p.m., once the baby got very tired and squawky, and I had more or less finished scrubbing various surfaces. Then Steve took the baby home and put her to bed, while I went to buy diapers. After baby was asleep, we proceeded to unload our cars and put things away. Again, it was almost midnight before it was done.
This morning Steve went back to the old apartment to pick up those remaining things and to do the final mopping and vacuuming. It's hard to believe, but maybe we will finally be done. And then on to the next enjoyable task: unpacking and organizing stuff in the new apartment. I've been doing it all morning. It does actually feel better than cleaning the old apartment. If for no other reason than because I can entertain an illusion that I will be better organized now because I can start from scratch in this new place.
It also gives me an excuse to go on a shopping spree to Container Store or its less stylish cousins Linens'n'Things and Bed, Bath & Beyond. I can spend a day just gawking at all the infinite breeds of "space-doubling" wire shelves. Shopping for organizational material is far more satisfying than shopping for clothes. No fitting rooms, no contemplating of thighs in the mirror, no despair for not approximating a model figure. Instead, lots of inspiration: if I just buy this 3-tier spice storage shelf, I will never again have to grope in the back of the cabinet for the damn oregano can.
But if I buy them, I will have that much more junk to haul during the next move. I guess a simple life may be an illusion after all.