We Is Here. We Is Tired.

This move has been a slog. I thought last year was crazy, but this is somehow worse. Maybe it's because I'm a year older, maybe it's because baby/wedding/three drives back and forth to FL were really too insane, but I'm sooo damn tired right now, I will be asleep by 8 on my air mattress of semi-comfort.

The movers arrived at 9 a.m. on the 1st. I was somewhat concerned when there were only two of them, and one was not much bigger than I am and appeared to be older than I am. The other was no kid either. And there were only two of them. But I remained optimistic - it's a 2 br. apartment, no garage, no attic, no storage space, how long could it take to put the contents on a truck?

The answer: five hours. At least one of these hours was spent in discussion about how to load the items on the truck - "Do you wanna do the bed next? When should we do the couch?" I'm pretty sure at least one of those five hours was taken up entirely by these discussions. And they were very careful and meticulous about using 200 miles of plastic wrap on every piece of furniture, so I do hope to get it in the same condition in which it left. But I did take out extra insurance, just in case.

The dogs were freaked out by their STUFF leaving, and had spent most of the 5 hours in the master bathroom - Murphy screamed, yipped, and panicked, Sophie chewed a chewie. I took them on so many walks around the complex, Sophie eventually rebelled and nearly collapsed in exhaustion. Still, the movers discussed and debated the next item to put on the truck, while I seethed quietly. Finally, finally, ohthankyoujeesus, they were done. I couldn't bear the thought of camping there another night and just wanted to get the long drive behind me, so the dogs and I were out of there a half hour later. The car was packed to the roofline again - I couldn't have fit a stick of gum in there by the time I'd loaded the necessities for a few furniture-less nights.

I had called Cousin C around noon and told her my tale of woe, and asked if I could stay at her house that night - she's about 75-90 minutes shy of my final destination, but had the extreme advantage of actual furniture. I wouldn't have to unload the car at nearly midnight just so I could inflate my own bed. She of course said of course, and we got on the road after 2, and rolled in at her house at 9:30, where, God Bless Her, she had chilled wine and recorded NCIS for me. She is a saint.

Along the way I learned that Sophie has an absolute passion for McDonald's Iced Caramel Mochas. They have become my secret weapon for alertness on the road - the combo of sugar and caffeine is just right. I had been drinking one before a stop for gas, and left it in the center console. I'm pumping gas and looked into the car to see that Sophie had roused from her slumber and was lapping away with gusto. Thank GOD she didn't spill sticky sweet coffee all over the car - she was very dainty. There wasn't much left when she got into it so I threw it away, scolding her. She stood with her paws on the dash, watching me as I dumped it into the gas station trash can. When I returned to the car she shot me the most accusing, wounded look - "How COULD you?? I wasn't finished!"

So, we actually arrived at our new home mid-morning yesterday. The last 48 hours have been a blur of sleeplessness and exertion. My hair aches, but after countless trips up and down the stairs, I am going to have buns of steel. I stretched out on the floor to stretch a while ago and thought I would never find the strength to stand up, and told the dogs to dial 911. Then I realized that my smart phone wouldn't respond to doggy paws, so I dragged myself upright again.

Today, we achieved internet. The furniture will be delivered tomorrow morning. Let's hope they don't take 5 hours to unload. I want my bed. Next post will be after furniture and sleep. There may be pictures, if I am not too tired to lift the camera.