I am writing this post from my my new-to-me couch in my newly rented house. Wait, make that our couch and our house. My fiancé is in the next room right now, working, because he lives here, too. It is grand, I tell you! In spite of a few hurdles along the way, we successfully made the move and we’re partly settled in, with many things still left to unpack and organize.
On moving day, we had the help of a small crew of friends who wound up becoming absolute life savers after our U-Haul truck broke down. Can you believe we had to get the fully loaded truck towed from my old apartment to the new house, just over a mile away? It was quite an experience. There was… some unladylike language.
We had loaded every last item onto the truck after stopping first at CW’s place and then at mine (with a detour along the way to get B’s old couch which she gave to us). It felt like such a relief to see that everything fit perfectly — we had chosen just the right size truck and packed it exactly right. And then we had to call U-Haul to send out a repair guy. The parking brake seemed to be stuck on, unable to be released. An ear-splitting alarm sounded when we tried to put the truck in drive (meant, I’m sure, to prevent drivers from pulling out with the parking brake still engaged) and it smelled like burning plastic.
The repair guy couldn’t do anything to fix the truck. We were so afraid we’d have to unload everything and reload it onto a second truck — and we were so close to being done! But then U-Haul sent out a tow truck. He found he couldn’t tow it in the normal way (front wheels up, back wheels down) because the back wheels were completely locked up and wouldn’t turn. No problem. He re-attached to the back end of the truck instead and towed it in backwards. From realizing the truck was broken down to actually getting it in motion again, I think it took 2-3 hours.
If you ever want to make a grand entrance into your new neighborhood — something for the new neighbors to really notice and remember — may I recommend pulling up with a giant tow truck towing an even bigger U-Haul truck, backwards, in front of your new house? It’s a really good way to announce your presence with authority.
We were stressed out and exhausted, but our friends B. and M. came through and helped us get every last piece of furniture off that truck and into our new house. This included, but was not limited to: two beds, four dressers, a couch, two futons, a dining table, several bookcases, several small tables, and a washer and dryer. My fitbit tells me I walked almost 8 miles worth of steps that day. most of these steps took place in driveways. We were exhausted. Luckily, there was beer.
Now we are working on setting up and settling in. The pets are getting adjusted and pieces of furniture are slowly but surely finding their new spots. For me, it still feels a little like a vacation instead of a permanent move. I’m all, “This is not my beautiful house! This is not my beautiful wife!” But it is. I think I will feel really at home once we finally have all our books on the shelves, our desks set up, and our dressers organized. Soon, soon. I’ll share some more pictures down the line, but for now, here are some views of the empty spaces:
I love our new house. It’s interesting, too, the little negotiations and adjustments we have to make now that we live together. I haven’t lived with anyone else since my college roommate Mel, from 1996-2000. We had our own rhythm going after four years of living together, for sure, but even then there were still little moments. You ate my cheese? That I was SAVING?! OMG, I was SAVING that CHEESE. Everyone who has ever had a roommate knows this routine, I’m sure. But 13 years after we finished college (13 years?! HOW have 13 years gone by??), we are still friends, and in fact she is going to be in my wedding. She can have all the cheese she wants; I will even save her some. So everything obviously worked out well.
Today, I still don’t like for anyone to eat the last of my proverbial cheese, but CW knows that. Ask him sometime to describe the flaming daggers that shot out of my eyes the time I was saving a peanut butter cup and he ate it. In his defense, he 1) didn’t know I was saving it, and 2) is a normal human without any disordered food issues, so had no way of knowing this would be A Thing. I think I almost set him on fire with my eyes, the poor guy. Anyway, I think as long as I remember to turn out the lights I’m not using, and he doesn’t freeze me out with the air conditioner, we are going to be just fine.