A Series of Unfortunate (Moving) Events
07/26/2017
I began my move-out process yesterday after I got out from work. I had help from my wonderful brother, Dustin, and my dear friend, Ang. I didn’t have as much packed for the apartment as I had planned (most of the boxes are marked for storage), but we managed to get some big things over there.
Of course, as I said to Ang when she arrived, these things can never just go smoothly. The Ikea dresser I have is long and tall, and not conducive to maneuvering around tight corners. Unfortunately, I was not aware that it was built IN the bedroom, so I didn’t realize there was no possible way to get it down the twisting, slant-ceiling stairs to the first floor (there were a lot of banged elbows and pinched fingers before Dustin and I came to this conclusion).
We wound up having to lower the dresser out the sliding glass door-to-nowhere down to the deck. It was a tense few moments, as if the dresser happened to slip while being lowered and swing freely, it could very well smash into a second glass door just below the first. Thankfully, between Dustin, Ang, and I, we were able to get it down without incident, but my heart was in my throat the whole time.
The second unfortunate event occurred soon after. We’d just loaded the dresser into a truck and came back inside to get some of my boxed-up things, when I realized my office door was open. The office where my cat, Sophie, had been confined to keep her from escaping into the wilds of which she is not in any way familiar or prepared for.
Queue breath-robbing panic.
Thankfully, Dustin has hawk-like eyesight and was able to spot her roaming the edge of the property line, just about to enter the forest beyond. I grabbed a bag of cat treats and called out to her. For one brief moment I thought she was going to make a break for the woods, never to be seen again. Instead, she ran right for home, and I was able to trap her inside once more. (Seriously considering getting her an orange kitty-convict collar after this escape attempt).
With Sophie secured once more and most of my possessions loaded up, I led a caravan of vehicles to my new apartment building. Moving everything inside was surprisingly easy and went without incident. My mother arrived just as we did, so we had an extra pair of hands that helped to speed things up. We were able to put my bed frame together in relatively short order, and I was pleased to find that my mental Tetris for how I plan to put the room together will actually work out.
Tired and hungry, we opted to go out to dinner. I went to lock up for the night, only to realize two important things:
1. I had left my keys inside the apartment. 2. The doors to this particular apartment complex lock automatically behind you.
You can guess where this is going.
Fortunately, I still had the truck key in my pocket, but the apartment keys, my house key, and my car key were all on that ring. My Ex was gone for the evening and would not be returning anytime soon to let me back into the house, and I’m still not technically a resident of the apartment yet--five more days!--so I could not call for help. On top of it all, my new roommate was in the middle of job-training a whole state away for the rest of the week, so I couldn’t ask him to let me in.
This was a really bad time to discover just how crappy my cell phone service is in this particular area.
For the next two hours, I attempted to text and call various individuals to try and work out a solution, all while trying to enjoy dinner with my brother, his girlfriend (who I was basically meeting for the first time), and Ang. I asked my Ex when he’d be coming home and I tried to get a spare key to the house from a friend, but didn’t receive much in the way of replies.
Slow service at the restaurant caused us to get out around 10:30pm, and I was finally able to find an area where I had a few bars of reception. I got in touch with my friend, and went to her apartment to get a key so I could go back to the house and pass out. There was just one problem: the key she had was an old one from before we switched the locks on the house. The Ex was also not answering his phone as he was ALSO in a black hole of cell phone service.
Helpful, right?
As I stood in my friend’s living room, trying to make my tired monkey brain come up with a new plan that was better than sleeping in the truck until the Ex came home, my friend, Angel, lived up to his name and came to my rescue. Being the previous roommate whose place I’m taking, he suggested that since he’s still on the lease, he could call Maintenance and claim he locked himself out, and I could solve all of my problems by just getting my keys back.
Genius!
It took another half-hour, but finally, I had my keys back and was able to return to the house. I’m very glad I took Angel up on his offer, as the Ex did not get back until well after I’d gone to bed (which wasn’t until around midnight, sob).
I’m a little crispy today, but given my Series of Unfortunate (Moving) Events, I think I did alright. I still have more to pack and move, at least now I don’t have to wait until Jake comes back from Maine to do so.
Small miracles, friends. Small miracles.











