Movers from Hell and other disasters

Last time I left at that the house was almost living ready.

Still needed some painting but after a whole day with all the extra help I could find that was done as well.

7 people in a one bedroom house. Yes we where in eachothers way but it all got done. Almost. One corner of the living room was still to wet to paint. (news flash it still is, leaky roof).

I am almost in control. Or feeling in control when my mother’s neighbor contacts me with the news that she has the perfect dog for me. And I have to pick it up the day after my move. And there goes my stress level. I want a dog. But not the day after moving. Even if the move is in control and goes perfect.

And trust me the move didn’t even go close to perfect.

I have booked the movers 2 months before the date. I have almost all my things packed in boxes but the big furniture is still standing. So I booked the movers to take those apart and put back together in my new house. My bed, wardrobe, huge bookshelf’s and a big cupboard. The planner from the movers guesstemated that it would take about 3 movers 6 hours. So they would show up at nine. One would take apart my furniture and the other two would put it in the moving vans.

They show up at 9:30 only two, the one taking the furniture apart isn’t there. From the first minute they start complaining about how much stuff I have. Well it was double but I and my neighbor already took half the boxes to my new house.

At around one all the boxes are in the moving vans. But still  no guy to take apart the furniture and the two movers are not allowed to touch it. And are now having lunch for an hour. My cats and owl are in their moving crates all this time. So I think F this shit and I put my cats, owl and some stuff the movers refuse to pack in their van in my car and drive to my new house.

The movers show up at around three. The whole move should be done by three and they are not just showing up. And there is a fourth guy I never met before. Clearly non of them can read because all the boxes are labeled where to go, most end up in the garage ( no boxes where labeled garage). I can hardly walk in my house because there are boxes everywhere. They did manage to install my bed everything else in the furniture department is in the garage. At sixs I told them to get out. The vans where empty and I wanted them out of my house.

Hardly slept. But the cats where safe, litterboxes and food installed, owl was happy in her new bigger outdoor cage. So the pets where better taken care of then me. I cant cook, don’t know where my pans are. So disaster.

Next day I have to go to my mothers place to meet the perfect dog.

Guess what, the dogs bites my face within five minutes of meeting it. So no to the dog. And I still have the scars on my cheek from that beast. Happy Christmas. Spending it crying on the couch with a swollen and bloody cheek, no dog, and boxes all over. No internet. No tv. No cable, no phone. It was a good thing I didn’t know where the sharp knifes where ( okay that is a bit of an overstatement but I was not a happy camper.)