Saturday 23 March
After taking the computer off line and packing it, and packing more things, and running out of packing tape, I had a major freak-out. My brain just kind of shut down - I hate it when this happens to me, it's as though my intellect just decamps. I can't finish a thought, I can't finish a sentence, I don't know where anything is... Fortunately I telephoned my brother faintheart and he calmed me down, then he and Scott came over and brought more tape, and helped put things in boxes, then Mike and Cam and Josh came over after breakfast - or was that the following Saturday? See what I mean - and I even tried to write this stuff down. I honestly can't remember.
I remember bits and pieces - I remember Cam and Josh carrying boxes in and out, and Chris. I think that might have been on the following weekend, though. When we were waiting for Serena's people to come and get her stuff... I think so. Well, hopefully all involved will forgive me for it all becoming a blur. This is the most stressful move I have had, pretty much ever - and in spite of all the ameliorating things I did to make it less so. I concluded (to the raucous laughter of my friends) that I am Never Moving Again...
So. 23rd March, major freak out but manage to get the big stuff, the essentials and the cat moved, with the help of Majestic Moving and Packing, Inc. who were totally wonderful. (206) 789-5646 - by all means, I recommend them. Jamaal and Toni were both great guys, dealt with my total lack of articulation calmly and with humor, and were just pretty damn cool. Jamaal had even lived in the complex I was moving into, so I didn't have to try and give directions - and that was a relief, I probably would have sent them to Ballard by mistake. Later that evening, over to Mike's to discuss Pox Americana. We came to the unanimous conclusion that smallpox==bad. Actually it was interesting to note that prior to reading the book, we had all pretty much assumed the disease to be something on the order of measles or chicken pox - a few spots, or even quite a few spots, but nothing like the reality of being completely covered in oozing, painful, highly contageous sores. I was struck by the casual mention that you were probably ok if the sores remained discrete, but that if they started to run together into large patches you were probably going to die (if for no other reason that at some point you would be losing huge chunks of integuement and be vulnerable to secondary infections!) Ugh.
My paper journal has one entry between 23 March and 2 April, on the 26th - my mother's 76th birthday.
The following weekend was the final push - vaccuuming, cleaning, and waiting for Serena's people. Who were slated to arrive at 11 a.m. Saturday, then 12, then 12:30 p.m. - and who pulled up in a Cadillac sedan to haul off an entire roomful of stuff. When they arrived, I asked "did she tell you what all she had here?" and her sister said "4 or 5 boxes?" to which my reply was "um -- let me show you." Of course they couldn't fit it all in the car, so they asked if they could come back the next day for the rest of it.
At that point I said "sure" since it was pretty much the inevitable conclusion of the towering conflagration my plans had become. To digress, you'll note that nowhere in here do I mention attending Spring Mysteries. That's because in addition to my brain slowly draining away out my ears from stress, and Serena's people not actually getting in contact with me until the day I'd wanted to be completely OUT of the apartment (27 March) so I could go off for the weekend with a clear conscience, I ended up needing to be at work all week because of the death of one of my coworker's father. It wasn't unexpected, but it did mean that instead of covering for me while I was gone she needed to be in LA - so I decided that clearly I was not meant to attend SMF this year and bowed to fate.
So I was not particularly surprised to find the exercise of getting Serena's stuff back to her extended yet another day. It gave me a chance to get more tidying done at a less frantic pace, if nothing else. Bonus points to Serena's dad for coming back the next day and managaging to fit the remander in his sedan again - I was stunned and amazed. Too bad he has to give the points back for being late/delayed again (are you sensing a theme here?) and pushing his arrival time back from "between 4-5 p.m." to "between 6-7 p.m." He made it at about 6:25 p.m. and a good thing too, because at that point once 7:00 p.m. hit I was planning to turn the keys over to Dwight-the-landlord and head out of there, and leave it up to the two of them to hash things out. But I didn't have to, thankfully. I'd anticipated the delay and brought snacks as well, so I was far less cranky than I'd been the day prior when the phone rang as 4:00 p.m. was approaching.
So, that was that. Mike arrived just after 7 p.m. and ferried me and my cleaning materials home. The next week was pretty nasty, between exhaustion, not being able to find any damn thing when I needed it, and feeling completely cut off from the universe. The phone doesn't cut it for a means of contact for me. I've mentioned my going around and around with Qwest, and since I've decided not to dwell on it I am going to refrain from elaboating here - besides, you've probably all dealt with them (at least the locals) so you can insert your own tales of woe for understanding.
Other items of interest include my mom visiting (and liking) my apartment, a marvelous lecture by Ursula K. LeGuin on Monday last. I think this is quite long enough, though - that will have to go in a separate entry later, if.