Moving Day

Okay, so I finally found a condo and finally got the developer to accept my offer. This was no small feat; it took 15 phones calls, emptying 12 bank accounts, 3 CDs and breaking into my “piggy bank for a rainy day” account, as well as begging. “I need someplace to put all my crap! Please let me buy your condo.” Well, it wasn’t that bad, it was actually worse. By the time I knew I was moving, and where, I had about two days to plan the move.

Since I was moving on a weekday, all my friends were sober when I asked them to help. They refused, citing excuses like: “I’ve got a bad back that only flares up when people ask me to move,” and “I’ve got work that day and I’ve got a really important meeting that night with my boss’s manicurist afterwards;” and “Move? I’m no stinking mover! Move it yourself. Or hire movers.” There excuses were just from the one friend I moved 12 times. Still, that last one struck home, so I called and I called different movers to see about their availability. Most were available in 6 months; some were available the day Hell freezes over. I just didn’t have that much time. Finally, I found a mover who could, well move that fast. While WeMakeItBreak wasn’t my first choice, they were my only one.

Thankfully, when WeMakeItBreak arrived, I knew a little bit of Spanish. Every time they asked me something I didn’t understand, I’d say “No habla your aho.” And the mover’s would just laugh. When they asked me in broken English (it was the only thing broken that still resembled what it started out as), “Want us wrap up rest of apartment to move,” I said, “How much does that cost?” The tape, the glue, the plastic wrap, the aluminum wrap, the Tupperware, well they all added up. Still, what choice did I have? I didn’t want my leftovers to spoil. Nor did I want my stuff to arrive broken. Not that all this added preparation and expense stopped that from happening.

Even with all the padding and special care (“don’t bend the bike frame that way, it might not break the reflector off” was what the movers said, I think), things invariably ended up broke. But I got what I paid for. I could say, “I didn’t break a thing during my move,” then blame WeMakeItBreak for all my woes.

As if all the known breakage wasn’t enough when I arrived at my new home, I knew I would invariably find more when I opened my Christmas boxes, in another year (because well, I couldn’t afford to decorate, because the move depleted all my money, my energy, and my Christmas spirit for the year). Of course I still had 15 boxes (and fifteen more years, projecting from the last move) before I opened all the remaining boxes from this move—so I’m sure I will find more and more little surprises from WeMakeItBreak as the years go by (the gift that keeps giving). By the time, I actually do finish opening the boxes from this move, knowing me; I will have accumulated an additional 15 boxes that I will have to move in the future—so I have something to look forward too.

But at least I’m finally moved, broken dishware (which was whole before the movers wrapped it in the protective cloth), crackle glass vases (which were not crackled before the move), broken bike reflectors (how could the movers NOT see that they were too close to the truck wall—when they were reflecting in their eyes?), and stuff that shifted during the move (dirty magazines do not open themselves to the centerfold all by themselves).

My advice to anyone planning a move: Don’t do it. Or if you must move: Find a decent charity that you can donate all your possessions to (I tried to give away some stuff to charity, but they wanted undamaged, unstained, perfect items—what did they expect, I would buy it new, then donate it?). Because by the time you’re through with moving expenses (the time and energy if you packed anything yourself, the movers, replacing damaged items, the angst over what was ruined), you more than likely could have replaced it all. Plus, it’s a lot less hassle to give it all away—and a lot more fun to go shopping!