Arrival, Part 2--The Movers, and the Aftermath

It became fairly clear to me by Friday that we were in trouble, and needed some professional assistance. We'd run a couple of van loads over to El Cerrito, and, uh, it was reminding me of the scene in _The Phantom Tollbooth_ where the boy is conned into trying to move a mountain of sand with a spoon.

We simply didn't have the time. Or the energy.

So I came to two realizations. One was that we needed professional assistance, and the other was that we needed another dumpster.

I called Starving Students, and begged for help.

I expected them to tell me to get lost, but they said they could send someone Tuesday afternoon. They did (Tuesday morning, actually, but that's another story). There were three of them, and they loaded just about everything into the moving truck (including some loose shoes of mine that were lying around unpacked).

The garage is now completely packed to the ceiling with brown boxes. Some of them, I'm finding, belonged to the fella's parents and were never unpacked. I just went through one that was nothing but books on flying saucers. They are going to Goodwill. I have found the nearest Goodwill dropoff point.

Then we had to get the last two vanloads of useless stuff out of there, and fill the dumpster, and clean up, and get out. And, somewhat amazingly, a week behind schedule, we did. The landlady has been sent her keys.

Now all we need to do is UNPACK.

And tomorrow I go to the local DMV at eight AM to take my third driving permit test. (I passed the last two times. I just let the permits expire.)

Somewhere in the middle of all this, I turned thirty-two. And bombs went off in Tube stations with all-too-familiar names. And I'm learning this new neighborhood. And I actually found some of the work I need to do this summer, and put it on my desk. And, of course, unpacked my computer.