Overly Verbal

So this morning I was royally pissed off, and when I calculated my remaining days in the ghetto I accidentally added a whole week – righteous indignation does in fact harm my ability to count. So I only had 37 days before I had to move then. But now I only have 32, including today. I gotta get moving!

See, what happened was, I figured out in my head that my daily rent couldn’t possibly be that much less than the daily rent of a truck, and if I just put all my possessions in a truck a week earlier than I had planned, I could pay rent to a truck rental company instead of my current property owner for that week. So I spent this morning negotiating with a certain someone about possible truck parking locations, and the feasibility of Molly and I sharing a one bedroom apartment for a full week with this certain someone (who will be in the middle of finals, and also trying to pack his own apartment, and also allergic to cats) instead of for one night.

Here’s something – I am not used to sharing decision-making. Yes, Molly makes some of the decisions around here, like when we are to open cans of tuna, and whether or not it is terribly, terribly important that I acknowledge that she is triumphantly carrying around a potholder or a rubber glove, but for the most part, I’m quite used to doing things without all that much regard for how others feel about my decisions. Somehow* I now find myself with a “partner” who is accommodating and kind, however, so negotiations proceeded apace, and I am bound to vacate my apartment a full two weeks earlier than I thought I was going to when I woke up this morning.

Which is fine, except that the day I have to have the truck loaded is at the very end of what will be my busiest week at work this year; the week I will be sharing an apartment will be a week without high speed Internet access, let alone wireless Internet access; and I honestly have no idea how much it costs to rent a ten-foot truck for an entire week, even though I have had ample time today to look it up (instead I was playing Scrabble games on Facebook and performing other similarly important activities).

There are some benefits to my plan, however, not the least of which is that after sharing a one bedroom apartment for a week, the two bedroom apartment we are moving into will seem like a palace. That, and loading my truck a full week before it can be unloaded will separate the physical activities from one another so that I have time to recover in between. (I say, as if I am actually going to be loading a truck. I might be doing some unloading, depending on how many of you all I rope into helping me, but I am most assuredly going to be paying some guys to load the truck for me.) (Because I am weak, and they are strong.) (If somebody wants to tell me that supervising is easy, though, I will gladly trade jobs with you so you can have my supervisee for a while.)

I think that’s all I’ve got right now. I should be doing something productive, in fact, like, I don’t know, renting a truck? Moving is hard.
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* Stupid, blind luck? That, or it just finally became my turn.