Slowly, slowly things are starting to come together here in our new place. Boy, that sounds nice: ‘our’ new place. I think it’ll be a while before I’m used to seeing Steven on weekdays. It’s very enjoyable so far.
You know what’s more fun than moving from one place to another? Why, moving from two places to one other, of course! We got to experience this little gem over the last week. First, we moved Steven from his college apartment to our new one. Northcutt Realty is one of Satan’s own, so he had to be out the day before actual graduation. The stifling weather was more proof of Northcutt’s connections with Hades: 95-100 degrees with ~70% humidity. People were breaking out in a hard sweat at six in the morning. The deed was done on time (yay!) with many thanks to Ken and Willis, who helped move that huge entertainment center though it turns out we’re not gonna need it anyway.
Graduation day itself was the most relaxing day of the week — there was no moving involved. The only sucky part was my new pair of shoes. They fit oh so perfect in the store, of course, but once we were heading toward the coliseum for the ceremony it was like my feet were strapped to a burning, pinching string of broken glass. They’re getting donated.
Friday was the long-dreaded Fort Payne move, which actually went better than I had anticipated. Thank goodness for strong parents. Thank even more goodness for rare summer cold fronts that swoosh by on Thursday nights. With temperatures in the low 80’s and practically no humidity, we all thought we had died and gone to Alaska.
Saturday was the last day of the Moving Extravaganza. Now all of our stuff is in this apartment in Opelika . . . it’s just not all put away yet. In fact, I am sitting on the floor as I write this update. We put my desk in the dumpster in hopes of finding a more utilitarian concoctive for our computer room. With me working long distance and Steven being the software guy he is, we know we need our separate computers. I don’t like his miniscule screen resolution and he hates my nifty trackball mouse. You say tomato . . .
_________________________
I never thought it would be so hard to give away stuff. Now that Steven and I are in the same place, we don’t need that extra set of dishes and flatware or those ratty old towels. Between us, we had leftover kitchen stuff, extra sheets, a coffee pot, express machine, pillows . . . man, you name it, we’ve got an extra supply of it. We started off throwing it away as we’d come across it. Ken got great pleasure from busting up that coffee carafe.
The more we threw away, though, the more guilty we felt. People could use that stuff! We’d try to pawn it off to friends and family, but everyone’s answer was the same: “I’ve got no room.” Yeah, same with us, that’s why we’re trying to give it away; free, free, FREE!!! We finally made a pile that we’d try to donate somewhere once we figured out where that ‘somewhere’ is.
Yesterday, I found it. Right outside the Thrift Store are these donating bin areas. Yes, place to drop off the junk! I had Elliott full of the stuff, so I opened up the back tailgate and started dragging it out.
Not two seconds after I set down that box of towels, a lady comes over to me and says, “Wow, you’re just giving away all those towels?!”
“Yes,’ I reply, “you want them?”
“Absolutely!” the exclaims, then proceeds to haul off the box with the help of her son.
I set down another box of kitcheny stuff and immediately another woman comes up to me and asks, “Do you know if we’ve gotta pay for that stuff or can we just take it?”
“Uhh, I just dropped off those two boxes there, and you’re welcome to root through it,” I say.
By the time I left there was a swarm of people around that stuff. It wasn’t all mine, though. There was also a decent couch and some old college textbooks lying around. It was a weird feeling. I was happy to know people were gonna get some use out of that stuff, yet I felt guilty because I had no use for it myself; I felt even more guilty for the other stuff we had already busted up and thrown away. The crash of that coffee carafe will haunt me for years, I think.
_________________________
So now I’m here on the floor, slowly unpacking these masses of boxes while waiting for Steven to get back from his second day of work. So far, the new job is going well. It will be going better once he receives his first paycheck. Then maybe I won’t have to sit on the floor.
Oh, amusing side note: it was one year ago today I posted my first post on this weblog. Woohoo, one year of blogging and I’m just as amused as when I started. My spelling still sucks, though.