DC isn’t THAT Big

A couple of months ago you may remember my blog about the awful decision to move all my peeps ( well most of) to the other building. At the time , my pain and utter despair was somewhat half-hearted because in all honesty, it’s really just a short 2 minute walk.  Around the same time as the big office shuffle, I also moved apartments. Once again, a 2-5 minute walk. As it turns out a 2 minute walk is quite the hurdle. Here is what I have learned, either a half mile is an extremely long distance in this city or there really is no difference between 2 minutes and 30 minutes when you have to get up off your ass and do something. I have not seen the other half of my street in over three months. Two minutes further away and it’s like those restaurants have ceased to exist, that corner is no longer there and that nice homeless gentleman …  ok well you know what I mean.

While my husband and I have found other restaurants that are good and other corners to cross at and well , no homeless people, but that one I can live with, I miss some of the old places. As someone who has moved around quite a bit in her time, I am used to missing places, but I don’t ditch people. And, I realized this morning I have not seen CareBear in over a week. I’m not sure that has ever happened before. Now restaurants, I can replace but not my CareBear. It looks like I’m going to have to make an, ugh, effort to not be so lazy. So, I have a collection of unwatched teen movies, with our names on them. Wanna watch? Of course, it will have to ab after the boy and I go down the street to our “old neighborhood” for dinner.

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The Home Stretch

So close, two more trips and the move will be complete. Although not sure why I am complaining since my husband is carrying all the bags. By the way, I spoke with the asses at Starving Students. They can’t discuss the ridiculous behaviour of the movers with me. It’s cool, let’s see if they can talk to the nice folks at my bank, as they will be handling the dispute now. Also, they will be coming out to appraise the damage to my furniture on the 9th. I am supposed to wait with my broken furniture until then. I am thinking about breaking it further.. grrrrr.

Sure, now I see this….

And just to do my part to make sure the Starving Students video premeates through the web… .

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?