Ok, I would just like to point out that only I could be moving into a brand-spanking new house with Brazilian Cherry floors, ceramic tile, and Eucalyptus Country Ledgestone accents while thousands in the southern US are having to live in shelters. Humbling indeed.
Greetings from HellWithoutAComputer! Yes we are moved. Officially! A few highlights:
We are getting our entire security deposit back from the innkeepers at the Motel 6 despite the fact, mind you, that in the midst of the cold winter when H & I had a fire one evening, a burning log rolled out of the fireplace and singed the carpeting. (It was reassuring to know that the cheapo carpeting in the place began to melt and give off toxic fumes rather than burst into flames so our lives were spared.) I had since been on a mission to find out how to conceal the melted area for some time due to my absolute refusal to let the Motel 6 management keep our deposit. I love a challenge. I finally read something that said to use a disposable razor to gently shave-off the singed carpet fibers. Ever the procrastinator, I spent the entire morning shaving the carpeting on the day we moved. I can’t even shave my legs without cutting myself so H was there to coach me as I performed the delicate surgery with my trusty Bic. Worked like a charm…who knew?
On the morning we were to close on our loan, I received a call from The Bank. I was at work and trying to get a million things done so I could dash to the closing on time. The conversation went something like this:
TheBank: WTC, I just wanted to confirm the closing time today.
WTC: Yeppers, we’re there! With bells on, baby!
TheBank: Super! Please be sure to have your photo ID’s.
WTC: Yeppers, all set! Bye Bye Motel 6 suckers!
TheBank: Yes, and please be sure to have your cashier’s check in the amount of $1,000,000,000 made out to the title company.
TheBank: Why, no. Didn’t anyone tell you about the overage?
WTC: Why no. And how f-ing kind of you to let me know ON THE DAY OF THE CLOSING WHILE I AM WORKING AND CAN’T LEAVE MY OFFICE.
In my old age, I am getting much more assertive. It’s about damn time and I love it. I did have to get the check; however, by the time we arrived at the closing, I had received several calls from various bank officers to apologize for the lack of communication. The title-company-closer-lady nervously apologized and gave H & I a humongous basket of goodies and samples and coupons. Apparently, the gang at the title co. had a big *function* (i.e. party) so our paperwork was not done until the last minute. I don’t think that will happen again.
H & I rented a storage unit last year since the Motel 6 apartment was crammed with stuff and, quite frankly, there was no more room at the inn. It was a bit Christmas morning-like to open up the door of the storage unit to reunite with belongings we had not seen in over a year. I forgot I HAD half of that stuff! A visit to the storage unit was also a grim reminder of my emotional state a year ago. Any reader of past posts knows I was for the most part dragged kicking and screaming thru the welcoming doors of the Motel 6. That’s putting it mildly. It was more like admitting a crazy woman into a loony ward. Consequently, we are discovering my packing-up of household goods was a little hodge-podge to say the least. For instance, one big brown box in the storage unit was packed to the gills with brand new fluffy bath towels. The towels were more fluffy than usual when we opened the box due to the mounds of mice poop inside. My lovely towels had been converted to a condo development. What was I thinking to leave such an inviting home-to-be in an unheated, undisturbed storage unit? Talk about leaving a light on. Indiana can thank me for the recent drastic increase in mouse population.
Most important, is the continuing saga of getting the internet to work at the new house. As you know, I have been marked absent in BlogLand for several weeks. Today will see the appearance of the fourth cable-connector-guy to perform yet another attempt at making contact with all things cyber. For some reason, the rocket scientists at the cable company cannot get everything to *sync up*. Further, for some reason, the customer service folks at said cable company cannot understand why I am upset about the bill for installation and one month’s use of the un-sync-ed Net. I so hate to get assertive yet again…lol.
At any rate, it is a bummer to feel so out of touch and I can’t wait to plop on the sofa with a cool cocktail to catch up on all of my blog-reading. It amazes me to realize how quickly I have come to look forward to reading the day-to-day musings of people I have never met. Certainly, it shows how powerful writing can be. Why else (and I would link these if I had time!) would I worry about Mandy having a safe and happy trip to see her hubby, or miss Hot Babe’s recorded observations, or vicariously go bar hopping with Kiddo over the weekend, or cheer-on BlogHero Stacy as she converts the world to all things Boca.