I believe that if I was to dress up for Hallowe'en this year, I would go as Cleopatra. And clasped to my bosom would be an asp wearing a t-shirt that says "Moving? Oh, that should only take a couple of hours."
What kind of rich and detailed state of denial was I in when I thought that:
a) I didn't have THAT much stuff to clear out of our condo on the day before the new owners took possession; and
b) I didn't need help to move?
Let me add a c) in here:
c) Did my random Google image search for "Cleopatra" really just turn up yet another hot picture of GINA TORRES?
d) Why won't she PHONE ME??
When Jeba, Premature Remover of the TV, offered to come by and help me out with packing, donating, discarding and moving my stuff to my new place on Sunday, I said breezily "Sure! That'd be great, if you have time." I was CASUAL about it, like it would be nice if she would come, but not CRUCIAL. HOLY FUCKING SHIT.
It's not like I left everything until the last day, you understand. I'd been slowly cleaning out different areas of the condo and awesome friends old and new had been coming by with vans and station wagons and cabs and gigantic trucks and taking away big furniture and kitchen stuff and hot "let's get it on" bedroom art like this:
Oddly, no one went for the "Perseverance" poster. Slackers.
So as I rolled off my air mattress on Sunday morning, I honestly thought that I had a pretty good handle on things. After two hours of continuous motion and a visit from Kism, who took a cartload of things away, I started to have misgivings. There was a lot of stuff here. And not just stuff I was thinking of trashing - stuff I wanted and/or needed. More stuff than I could reasonably get into a cab. More stuff than someone who's technically "already moved" should have. And then there was the storage locker.
I spent two arduous and painful days emptying the storage locker back in July and by the time I left, there were a couple of boxes of my childhood stuff and our camping gear (Ha ha. We camped together once two years ago and ended up spending the last night at a Holiday Inn. Ah, nature.) I knew the movers had taken the boxes and I was expecting the camping gear to still be there. I was chagrined to find that the camping gear had mated and given birth to a bunch of crap that had not previously been in the storage locker. I didn't react well.
"It's not as bad as it looks," said Jeba, as I stared at the pile of detritus with an open mouth and trembling hands, "we'll just get the cart and take this all to the dumpster. Hey . . . are you keeping that Tiki torch?"
Jeba is one of those freakish people who actually enjoy moving. The woman moves at the drop of a hat. And if she's not moving, she'll be there when you do. She had spent Saturday helping her other friend Da(no last name) move and arrived at my house on Sunday ready for more. She immediately took stock of the situation and decided to book an Autoshare vehicle. Since I was clearly ready to set fire to everything in despair, she offered to take any sellable stuff to her place and put it up on Craig's List and then GIVE ME THE MONEY. When I decided it would be better to donate everything, she knew which drive-thru drop-off Goodwill to go to and what their hours were on Sunday. It was like the Goddess sent me an angel. An angel who showed up with boxes, emptied my cupboards, packed things expertly, filled every square inch of the car like she was playing Tetris, belched alot and drove like a maniac. It was epic.
We finally finished emptying, donating and dropping my stuff at my new place at the not unreasonable hour of 7:30 p.m. Considering I started at 9 a.m., it could have been worse. As we walked back to Jeba's house after dropping off the car, she said "I think the Swiss Chalet is on you." I couldn't have agreed more.
Anyway . . . two days later, it's Hallowe'en. You long-time readers may recall that I dislike Hallowe'en and generally avoid getting involved. But since we sold our condo, I find myself staying at a house where I have access to the front door on Hallowe'en for the first time since I left my family home. I am also living in a neighbourhood where children reside. My roommate, Anto, is going to be out. There may be trick-or-treaters and I am in charge. I went out today and bought a lot of candy, but it's lookin' pretty good to me right now. Maybe I'll just turn the hose on the kids, gaze at that photo of Gina Torres as Cleopatra and keep these Reese's Peanut Butter Cups to myself.
