Here's how today was supposed to go: Movers come from 8-10am, Clean house from 10-12, Leave for airport at noon, Arrive in new city before 3pm.
Ah, but things here rarely go that smoothly. Sometimes I feel like my life here gets so much added drama...but today I was thinking that parts could also work for a comedy. Unfortunately, I think it'd be more funny if it weren't my real life. So here's the story of what really happened today...
The movers arrived by 7:45am, and I was impressed that they were early. They began moving our things...but soon began to lament that there was too much stuff (they had come a few days earlier and said there should be no problem fitting everything in the truck). We had chosen the most reputable (and thereby expensive) moving company to move us since we often say (especially here) that you get what you pay for. Anyhow, they confirmed this morning that the company only had one size truck, but that some are bigger than others. That obviously makes sense. =P Anyhow, they decided to have the truck leave so that they could get a bigger truck. They continued to move and move...and kept commenting on how heavy things were. I did feel a little bad for them that we live on the 6th floor and that my husband loves books so much. I chuckled, thinking that maybe they chose the wrong profession, but wondered that perhaps they were just trying to gain sympathy for a tip or something. Anyhow, by 11am, I was getting nervous since they were far from done packing the bigger truck...and Richard (who was downstairs watching them load up the truck) was calling me to prioritize what the movers were bringing down since it wasn't going to all fit. By this time, I began hoping that our flight would be canceled so that Richard could drive with the remaining things. I called my future neighbor, and she confirmed that weather was bad enough that the flight probably wouldn't fly. The movers finished shortly before noon and drove off with most (but not all) our stuff.
Richard and I started trying to figure out what to do with the rest of our stuff. We had a driver friend come over to assess whether or not he could rent a car to take the rest. We debated whether Richard should go alone (while Noah and I would hope that the next flight in 2 days would fly) or whether we should go as a family (and risk Noah getting carsick again). All this was going on while we kept calling the airport to find out whether or not the flight was officially canceled or not. They said they would probably know by 1pm. By 12:45, we were getting nervous...but we were still pretty confident that the flight would be canceled. By 1pm, the airport offices said that the flight hadn't been canceled yet, so we began a mad rush to finish packing up the last of our things and get all our luggage down 6 flights of stairs. Thankfully, some friends showed up unannounced just in time to help us carry all our stuff down. By 1:30pm, we were ready to leave for the airport, but I was doubtful that we would be able to make our 2:15 flight (since we typically have to leave at least 2 hours in advance). Just as our friends were saying goodbye and we were about to close the car doors, Richard got the call that our flights have officially been canceled. So my poor husband, then had to lug all the heavy luggage back up 6 flights of stairs (but at least our friend was still around to help). We got back to our apartment, crashed on the couch, and lamented about what to do next. When should we go? Drive or hope that the next flight will fly? Stay together or split up? We decided that we'll all drive out tomorrow afternoon with the rest of our stuff, and hope that Noah doesn't get too carsick. Please remember us! Then we all took a nice afternoon nap.
