Moving out pain

Since just a few days ago I moved out, I had the chance to live again
the helter skelter of the things that happen before, during and after
the big date… sweet Lord, the beauty of it.

I will spare you the details of the interview with the owner of the company who finally
offered the lower price to do the job… but as just a quick note I’d like to say that
rumor has it he´s still telling the story I interrupted after one hour
of patience.
I had to hire a company because seemingly the amount of
friends one has is inversely proportional to the size of the chore you want them
to help you with, lucky me! Well, to be honest, four of them would have helped,
but two were in Prague, the other broke his right hand and the last
one was to become a father around the same weekend I needed help. Lame
excuses if you ask me, but what can I do… next time they might say they can’t help because I poisoned them after they didn’t help the first time. Never mind.

First things first: BOXES! Your life turns into a one-way road, your
mind and thoughts are about one thing and nothing more: finding boxes.
You buy furniture and devices that you actually don´t need just to
dump them and save the boxes. Asking at the funerary if the dead guy
really needed that box was maybe not a good idea… I think I let my emotions take over.

Once you have your whole life inside boxes – this is actually an
interesting situation, when you realize how much you have and carry
with you – you have to make sure everything has been marked so that
you won´t have to wonder whatever is inside this or that box… but at
the end you are so tired and sick of doing and repeating the same
thing that you just put whatever inside whichever box you have
closest. Later you will realize that Sherlock Holmes himself wouldn´t
be able to help you put the pieces back together.

Once you have loaded the truck and driven to the new building, you
can only guess what type of treatment your valuable things are
undergoing while you wait for them to arrive. Some light will be cast over your doubts when you unpack
the kitchen boxes and instead of plates and glasses you find so many
pieces that you wonder if that was actually the box where you put your
puzzles… at least you find some peace in thinking that you won´t
have to wash up for a while.

Getting your furniture up to the room is also and adventure, it is
then that you notice how much those guys carrying your things actually
know. You let them know that the stairs are too narrow and that the
sofa will probably not fit, however they let you know that due to
their experience and given the correlation space-time-gravity and
considering Newton´s laws – I swear they know about that stuff – they
will make it fit very easily. Two hours later your sofa is a
three-piece set, the walls are scratched like they were carrying cats
instead of furniture and the guys blame it all on you… they also swear they told you
the sofa would probably not fit, but you insisted!

At the end of the day, after having paid two times as much as the guy
had said at the beginning – he insists he had explained that the prices he
gave you applied only if you were a student, between 22 and 23 years
old, born in Tanzania, married to a latin girl who lived in Alaska and
your last name was Pichiruche… too tired to even argue, you cut your
losses, count your blessings and just feel that the worst is behind
you. Yes, the worst is behind you, except you notice that you left the
keys inside some box… so… good luck with that.

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