Broken Skin, Broken Furniture, Broken Car, Broken Nose, Broken Spirit

Let’s flash back to Tuesday when the movers called:

Starving Students rep: “We are going to have to send three guys for insurance and bonding reasons. It will be $30 an hour more. “

Me:”Ok, that’s fine. “

3 hours later……

SSR: “You know what, it’s probably fine with two.”

Me: “Probably doesn’t work for me. Send three.”

3 Days Later (7:10 am on moving day)….

While it seemed like a good idea at the time, using the hunting knife to cut the tape may have not been such a great plan. A little too easy to confuse your thumb and forefinger with the tape. I am a bloody mess. Is this an omen?

8:10 am……………… 

SSR: “You know what, we have had a couple of guys get injured, we are going to send two. “

Me: “Oh jeez, FINE!”

SSR: “They are on their way”

2 hours later…..

Movers arrive.

5 hours later…

Still in first apt watching the two inept movers attempt to move the furniture.

Inept Mover: ” It won’t all fit.”

Me: “What do you mean? It’s a normal size two bed apartments worth of furniture.”

IM: ” Yeah, it don’t all fit.”

Me: “FINE.”

2 hours later…..

We get to the new apt and it begins again.

2 hours later … and with a whole lotta help from the husband.

The movers have finished.

That’s right 9 hours later, they moved half of a two bedroom apt… at $100 an hour… way to go. As we walk around the apt and look at the furniture, not one, not two, not even three but 6 pieces are now broken, not upright and scratched.  Mother F^&*^s.

*Please note those who stumble on this entry while looking for movers in the DC area. While Starving Students may usually be the best movers ever, do you really want to be the one this happens to? Use another company.

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Following day, husband and I drive back to the old apt to finish up, which with only one/two cars and half of the apt still left will be taking the rest of the week. HINT HINT. As we take the sixth load down to the cars and I get in my car, out of breath and exhausted. BANG. Yep that was the poll. Mother F&*(&(r.

As my husband comes sprinting through the garage to check on his lovely and very upset wife, he throws his arm around me (forgetting the bag wrapped over his shoulder with the hard plastic part) ok, now my nose is broken… and of course my spirit. I want to die. How was your weekend?