What Happens at Night in the Garage

So, we got moved.  Mostly.  We moved last Thursday, officially.  And Friday.  And Saturday.  And Sunday.  And yes, today.  Might need one more day.  So here’s the saga, and the explanation.  Because, really, a title like this needs some kind of disclosure!

On Thursday, it was HOT.  As in well over 100 degrees, heat index.  It was so hot that I must have sweated off ten pounds.  Okay, not really.  Actually just one.  One lousy, stinkin’ pound.  My husband lost seven.  And a half, he later clarified.  Humph.

Anyway, we got the truck, and as Dennis was pulling into the driveway he clipped the gutter and knocked over the downspout.  Nice way to start the move, huh?  We did get more help than expected, and things went pretty smoothly until I realized I’d forgotten to finish packing the kitchen; and Dennis had missed a few things in the sideboard.  And then I decided we had a LOT OF STUFF.

We got to the apartment, just after 11:00 a.m.  That’s when they said we could check in.  Nice, huh?  Easy for them, they were sitting in air-conditioned offices, printing out the 20-page lease for us to sign.  Yes, really, twenty pages.  Ugh.  THEN they said, even though we qualified with just my husband’s income, and then some, that they “needed” proof of MY income.  What?  Like now??  No, they said, Monday or so would be fine.  Right.  Maybe I’ll dig it up by then, or not – how about not, since today is Tuesday and it’s really the last thing on my mind.

So we finally saw our apartment.  Not bad.  If you like the 70s.  Dark wood doors, dark cabinets (and not all that many!), no pantry, and approximately two-point-five outlets per room.  At least the light fixtures and bathrooms had sort of been updated.  Oh wait, what light fixtures?  Not a single one in the living room or any of the bedrooms.  It was fun putting beds together in the dark, with a flashlight.  Ha.

There were a few other idiosyncrasies too: a clump of cables hanging down over and across the patio door which, I was assured, someone would take care of “shortly”.  It’s been five days.  The pool just outside said patio was supposed to have opened a month ago – they’re still working on it, but maybe tomorrow?  In between thunderstorms?  The main pool, on Saturday, was also closed.  And a nice, dark green color.  Blech!

Oh, and my stove had no drip pans.  A maintenance guy showed up Friday  with some, but only one “fit”.  So now I can cook on one burner – these are electric coils, so no pan, no cook.  Bummer, huh?  The guy said they were “on order” – why, I’m not sure, because any hardware store carries them – and would be here Monday.  It’s Tuesday now, no drip pans.

I actually ran into the head maintenance guy while walking the dog, and he said all these things would be taken care of “soon”.  And another guy said he had my drip pans on his truck.  Yesterday.  I told him to just leave them by the door, and I’d put them in, but he assured me that HE would “install” them.  Really.   Drip pans.  Okay, I’ll shut up now about them but sheesh, they’re just DRIP PANS!

Oh, yeah, forgot about my washer/dryer unit.  It’s a stackable.  In a closet.  The good thing is that I don’t have to lug laundry up and down stairs, the bad thing is that I can wash one pair of jeans at a time.  Alright, not really – it’s deeper than it looked at first glance, but it still takes pretty small loads.  Half a basket, maybe.  Seems to do a good job, though.  And it’s right outside my office.  Can’t decide if that’s a plus or a minus.

But, are you ready for this?  I’m almost unpacked.  I have exactly four boxes left – and my husband has two.  This is the fun part, right?  All I have left to put away is the decorative stuff and the hanging-on-the-wall stuff.  Dang, I’m good.  But also tired.  And, considering last night’s happy hour turned into an up-till-midnight drink-a-thon (yes, I know, nothing like the “old days”, but still!) – okay, a whopping two and a half beers – I am VERY tired.  But functional.  Mostly.

Oh, and the title?  Catchy, huh?  Well, my theory is that, during the night, anything left in a garage engages in unspeakable things and multiplies.  Kind of like our hamsters.

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