This is my epic moving story from floor 3 1062 W. Columbia and into my mother’s champagne-colored minivan.
This year, I formed a new life philosophy about putting my energy into people above all else, and this week was me living that out. Instead of packing, I opted to do awesome things like spend 6 hours at Brookfield Zoo with an LUC chaplain and his little girls, or have a delicious dinner party with friends, or go to Big Chicks and stay out until close. Such episodes are why my summer has been absolutely outrageous, but it also sets the stage for the most ridiculous moving scenario EVER.
After having ONLY fun on Monday and Tuesday, I get a call from my roommate Andi, whose boyfriend was supposed to help move the heavy things (my desk, pseudo-closet and unnecessarily dense kitchen table); Nima is no longer coming. Time: 9:30pm. At that point, I figure what’s another half-hour, so I stay at the dinner party to help a friend finish her crossword until 10. Returning home, I have no idea how little me is going to get big furniture into the back of the van. I text my friend Aaron, asking how much free beer it would take for he and his roommates to help. No response. Time: 10:45pm.
We put it off for as long as we can, but come 11:15, we realize we just need to cowgirl up and move things ourselves down the treacherous spiral wooden stairs from our 3rd floor unit. The armoire is twice as wide as me and probably 50% taller than me, but we make it happen. It is definitely amusing for neighbors, if any of them are still awake. But we do it. In order to fit the desk, my stuff needs to go inside the armoire that’s already in the van, so we stock it full.
He’s at my front door.
We are ecstatic! He is with Spence, one of his roomies that I love, and they make moving the desk look so graceful that Kristi Yamaguchi resembles a child learning to walk. They go to slide the desk in and IT DOES NOT FIT. (Matt Forrest, I was screaming FML at 30 second intervals.) I had measured to make sure both would fit, but I measured INSIDE the van, not the doorway of the trunk, which is only slightly smaller. We have to remove the armoire and ALL of its contents in order to tilt the desk and put it in first.
Time: 1:35am. The van is loaded. All big things are in, including my mattresses/bedframe, which the boys went to work on without even being instructed to do so. All that’s left are odds and ends, so I leave it for the morning and hand Aaron $14 to run to Isam’s and grab some Goose Island. They return at 2am, and we proceed to relax on my roof until 4am, sipping, chatting about Loyola, and watching an almost-gang war happen across the street (3 cop cars!). I’m still scheduled to depart at 7:30am.
After the boys leave, Andi and I do the obvious thing that buzzed people do after 3 hours of moving– we Sporcle. Once she retires, I gather items until 4:45am. I wake up at 8am, leave at 10:30, and stop in BG for a brownie. I also stop in Elyria to go SCOOTIN’ on Rhonda the Honda scooter with my best friend Chrissa (who is supposed to be blogging on here…) and FALL IN LOVE WITH SCOOTER RIDING. I thank them in bottles of Goose Island not consumed the night before and finally make it home after 9 hours of being located SOMEWHERE between Chicago and Grafton.
Now time for unpacking/repacking for camp…Oxford tomorrow. You probably won’t be hearing from me until next weekend because WORKSHOP IS ALMOST ALMOST HERE!!!!!!!!