And on the seventh day... they fixed the toilet

Today's blog is more of a status report than my usual griping. You know that saying "everything that can go wrong, will"? Well, that didn't apply to THIS move, which means I have relatively little to kvetch about. I mean, it wasn't FUN, and of course it ended up costing almost twice what I was quoted, but it's not like that's anything surprising.

One of my favorite authors, Suzanne Finnamore, wrote, "When planning a wedding you should know that everything costs a thousand dollars, except for the things that cost more than a thousand dollars." This can be applied to anything associated with purchasing a home, except of course for the home itself, which costs, well, let's just say WAY more than a thousand dollars.

After lucking out on the weather - a gorgeous, sunny day with a hint of warmth to it - and watching in terror as the moving guys schlepped our posessions up that steep driveway without dropping anything, we were due for some poorer luck. The moving bill was one thing, but (and don't tell them this) I would have paid one million dollars to not have to lug all that stuff up that driveway myself. So the fact that we went $500 over budget still seemed like a win to me. The treadmill alone was worth that. Those poor guys. I hope they are okay. I hope they are taking ibuprofen.

Anyway, yes, as I mentioned before: there is surprisingly little to report. The rest of the weekend went kind of like this:

• Unpack 10 boxes
• Spend $200 at Target
• Unpack 10 boxes
• Spend $500 at Lowe's
• Unpack 10 boxes
• Spend $250 at Costco
• Unpack 10 boxes...

So far our new home feels somewhat like a vacation resort. We have this ginormous master bath with a double vanity, waterfall shower and japanese soaking tub. It feels like our honeymoon. I managed to dry myself off after my shower without bumping my elbow on anything for the first time in over a year. I ran on my very own treadmill, which faces the window overlooking these two huge trees in our yard in which squirrels and birds frolick and chirp, providing me with my very own personal Animal Planet broadcast.

Speaking of which, Theo is still getting used to the whole yard thing. She'll wander and explore so long as she thinks one of us is out there with her, but as soon as she sees we've snuck back inside she stands at the door and looks perplexed. Also frustrating her are the stairs. She is no longer able to sit in one spot and keep an eye on both of us. There are four more rooms and two levels. All day long "click click click click" as she trudges up and down the stairs and hallways, trying to maintain a constant log of where we both are. Not easy when we are running all over the place unpacking. She was so tired from all the stair climbing at the end of the first day that we had to help her up onto the bed.

There were a few discoveries that led each time to my envisioning Tom Hanks laughing uncontrollably when his bathtub fell through the floor. Comparatively things like the rack in the dishwasher needing a part, and the hot water being yellow, are fairly minor, but as a new homeowner it doesn't take much.

Tom meets each of these challenges by driving to Lowe's and spending two hundred dollars. So far nothing has actually been fixed, but we could start a little hardware business of our own out of the garage. In theory we will put all these purchases to use soon. The first weekend we spend weeding the yard and putting in a french drain (I do not know why it is French - perhaps it is a very rude drain?) will probably return me to my normal, crabby nature, and provide much more fodder for your amusement. But for now... I'm going to soak in the tub and crack a bottle of champagne!

Buying a House is a Very Stupid Thing for a Young, Healthy Person to Do

I used to be full of life. My eyes were bag-free, I fit into my jeans, I laughed, I went out with friends. That was only last month, but I can kiss that kind of carefree life goodbye because I bought a house.

Seriously, WHY do we think buying a house is such a great idea? Who started this rumor? I bet it was the Republicans. They are always trying to beat us down with the old "it's un-American" guilt trip. "Tell them that spending three times their annual salary on an item that will take them 30 years to pay off and will suck up all their free time and certainly any energy they might have is the American Dream! They'll never go on vacation again and all their money will land in our pockets! We'll own their souls!" "I don't know," Cheney chimed in, "that doesn't really sound awful enough. I know! Why don't we also discourage insurance companies from covering therapy sessions? Mwahahahaha."

Another person who I'm no longer too fond of said recently, "Just be glad you bought a house that is move-in ready."

Move-in ready?? I don't think so! I am dealing with floor people, paint people, cleaning people, moving people, delivery people and, soon I hope, psychiatrist people. My people have people. I have so many people. And of course this doesn't include all the work people who have already made it their life goal to see that I never sleep soundly again.

Just when I think I have one thing taken care of, can make that satisfying CHECK on my long list of to-do's, it gets undone and creates several more. To-do's spawn like devil rabbits when you buy a house. The whole of last weekend was spent buying a guest bed and returning it. We wound up after 8 laborious hours - 8 hours which we absolutely cannot spare right now - in the very same place we started. It's a long and not very interesting story, but basically we bought a bed which could not be delivered so we strapped it to the roof of the car with about 3,000 bungie cords that my husband always has on him just in case (no I'm not kidding) and then drove it to the house where we braved the driveway and actually managed to get the car up it, unloaded the bed, deposited it in the house, went back to the apartment to resume packing where we received a call from the store that we'd been given the wrong hardware for the bed and that no, they didn't have the right hardware to give us. So... reverse above, ending the day with no bed and nothing else done, either.

Well, at least the painter was well underway and the upstairs looked fabulous. But... Tom called me from the house yesterday morning to let me know the floor guy hadn't shown up (which didn't do much to help the gastro-intestinal issues I've developed in the last couple of weeks) oh and incidentally did I mean for the master bedroom to be baby blue? Not that he couldn't live with it but... NO the master was not supposed to be baby blue! It was supposed to be a subtle gray. SO... back to the house for an emergency meeting with the painter while my cell phone rang itself hoarse as, apparently, the entire working world ground to a hault because I'd had the audacity to leave my desk for an hour.

This whole situation has me in knots. I have so many balls in the air I can't see even a piece of sky. I am completely scatter-brained. I don't know how people who have kids manage to buy houses without losing their jobs. Thank God I don't have any kids - at least, I don't think I do, since I'm not remembering much these days - because I would accidentally pack them or forget to feed them or something. As it is I feel like my head is going to explode. I am answering messages people never left and not answering messages people did leave. My friend asked me today why I hadn't responded to her email and I seriously had no idea what she was talking about. Meanwhile earlier this week I told another good friend how sorry I was to hear she was sick and she replied, "I'm sick?" I could have sworn she sent me a text saying she was sick, but no such text existed.

It's a little alarming, to say the least. I used to be really on top of things, back when I didn't have bags under my eyes and could fit into my jeans. My jeans... shit. I seem to have left them at home again. No wonder I'm getting such weird looks at the office.

I am never moving again until the next time

Shy violets cover your ears: Moving fucking sucks.

We have just a few short weeks before we are moving to our new home. I don't think I'll have the opportunity to enjoy the new home because I will likely be bedding down in a mental institution.

I am trying to space out the packing over these few weeks by first packing the stuff we haven't touched since the last time we unpacked it. But here's a funny thing. Even though you never use most of the crap you own, the second you decide that something is superfluous enough to pack it you will need it. Another funny thing is that as soon as something is packed you will have no idea what box it is in even if you take meticulous notes, which I do. If it is packed you just have to assume you will not see it again until after you've moved, if ever, because we all know things go mysteriously missing as well.

Another funny thing is that everybody who works for the cable company is crooked and on drugs.

My conversation today:

"I would like to transfer our cable to a new home."

"Okay, the new monthly bill will be $170."

"Why? It's only $150 now."

"No it's not."

"Um, yes it IS. I'm looking at the bill."

"I'm sorry MA'AM," in that snotty "what have I done in this world to deserve having to deal with idiots like you all day" voice that they get. "But that is incorrect."

"Okay, let's move on. What did you say the new bill would be?"

"$132."

"I thought you said $150."

"No, MA'AM. That's what it WILL be."

"You said it WILL be $170."

Heavy sigh. "What date would you like to move your service over MA'AM?"

"The 22nd."

"Okay, we will send someone the 24th and you do not need to be home for the disconnect."

"The 22nd, please, and if I don't need to be home, does that mean you do this remotely?"

"No."

"No, you don't do it remotely, but nobody needs to be at home when you disconnect the service?"

"That is correct, MA'AM."

"So they won't need access to the home to disconnect?"

Heavy sigh. "Yes, MA'AM they will need to get in the home to disconnect your service."

"But I don't need to be there?"

"That is correct MA'AM."

"But then how will they get in the house if I don't need to be there?"

"I don't know, MA'AM. It's not my job to know the answer to that. I'm in customer service."

I am speechless.

"So we are all set for the 24th MA'AM."

"The 22nd."

"EXCUSE me?"

"I asked for the 22nd."

Silence for about 10 minutes except for the tapping of fingers on a keyboard.

"Okay, MA'AM you are all set for the 18th. Is there anything else you need?"

"Not the 18th. The 22nd!"

"I put the 18th but they'll be there the 22nd. But you don't need to be."

"I don't need to be there the 18th, or the 22nd?"

"You will not need to be there when they disconnect your cable as I said before, MA'AM."

"And what date will they be disconnecting my cable?"

"The 20th."

"Right. Okay! And how much will the new bill be?"

"$163, as I said before, MA'AM."

"Okay! Now we're making progress! So I'll see you on March 18th."

"No, MA'AM, the 22nd."

"You're right as always! And our bill will be $163."

"No, MA'AM, the bill will be $132 as I mentioned earlier, MA'AM."

"Okay! Well thank you! You've been so helpful I'm just going to put a thank you card in the mail to you right now!"

"You'rewelcomethankyouforcallingcomcastclick."

Next on the list - utilities.

"I need to move my service over to a new address."

"We don't have your current address listed MA'AM. So would you like new service?"

"What do you mean? I have service right now. Can't you hear the TV? Could I have the TV on if I didn't have electricity?"

"I'm sorry, MA'AM but our records indicate..."

But I can't tell you what happened next because this is when I threw the phone out the window and started binge drinking.