An update to: SoCS Dec. 17/16.

I could write volumes. It started out with days of no communication from the Kentucky side of things. No word of when she was leaving, if she had left, if she was ok, if the stuff was ok, no… nothing. I am not wired like that, and I can’t understand why it is so difficult to let people know what you are doing. From the beginning, this whole mess was us guessing wtf was going on. My friend from Canada came to help, at great trouble and expense for him, yet there we were late Friday night wondering wtf was going on. We left messages, “please call.” We heard nothing. After 9 pm we had to call the hotel, “No, there’s no one checked in by that name…” At 3 am on Saturday, we received a text message stating she had arrived and would call us later. She had never confirmed the time to start on Saturday, so we were left guessing. It was a barometer of how things were going to go.

It was the best of moving days, it was the worst of moving days, it was a day of hope, it was a day of foolishness, it was a time of coming together, it was a time of cluster fuck, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness at 4 pm, it was the heart-spring of reuniting with long separated belongings, it was the winter of record low temperatures, we had everything before us to unpack, we had missing items behind us—forgotten, we were all going direct to Heaven with happiness to see that the expensive crystal was intact, we were all going direct the other way when everything cloth or upholstered or wood was covered in horrible mildew – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only or at least a loud, “what the fuck?!”

Or something like that. I’m deathly allergic to mold and mildew, so thank heavens I had inhalers available. I haven’t had to use an inhaler for years, but happened to have new ones handy, otherwise I would have been in the hospital. My knees gave out, and I was fearful of being hospitalized for that, too. The two who were doing the heavy lifting muddled through just fine without me. I had said all along I would be of little physical use in this fiasco, and I was correct.

Things are grossly filthy, complete with mouse piss and turds, and that’s what I can identify. I had packed everything before I moved to New England. I packed well, but not well enough for what the things endured.  Moves are bad enough when you can take clean items and simply unpack them and try to figure out where the fuck they are going in the new place. I pretty much have to do that and scrub, disinfect, and deodorize everything. We had to add $150 to the budget for cleaning supplies after she left. Surprise! All tallied this move “to save me money” did save a little, but not a whole lot, and at what other cost?

My white, slipcovered, Pottery Barn couch was totally unprotected and, between the filth and mildew, the slipcover may be ruined. I need to wash it to find out. At least they still make it. It will cost me $600 – $1200 (depending on fabric), should I have to replace it. If the mildew went into the cushions, the whole couch is ruined and will have to be tossed. An expensive, leather LaZboy had the wooden supports kicked in and the chair has to be professionally repaired or thrown out as unusable (it, too, covered in mildew).

No, insurance doesn’t cover this.

The antique, primitive Javanese armoire that I figured would be destroyed, came through perfectly well.

Because the person who was in charge of this doesn’t actually read the emails sent to her, the key stabilizing pieces to my bookcases were left behind. I mentioned these to her three or four times. I don’t have bookshelves now; I have lumber. The bookcases are/were the key items to getting everything in order because this place is tiny, with no storage. I’ll see if I can jerry-rig something or those, too, will be tossed as useless.

My plans, had anyone cared to ask, were to use my tax refund and accrued earned time, to drive down and pick up my stuff in early spring, just a few short months from now. I would have hired people who could lift. Instead it was this cluster fuck. However, if my things had stayed down in what appears to be swamp-like conditions any longer, then probably the mildew would have for sure destroyed everything.

I do not have laundry facilities in my apartment, so this truckload of laundry has to be dragged elsewhere for a coin-operated laundromat.

It is a mixed bag. I haven’t figured out if I am relieved to have my stuff or just depressed. Like most things it probably isn’t black or white, but gray (like my used-to-be white couch).

And, again, if you’re reading this thinking I’m a bitch for griping about a favor, you are possibly right. On the other hand, I have said to this person many times over many months to simply move everything I own to a proper, dry, clean, real storage facility. I was ignored. I kinda feel like if you are going to offer to do a favor (which she did, in keeping the stuff and in moving it) then have the courtesy to follow-through responsibly, and if you can’t, then fucking tell people so something else can be worked out!

Not a whole lot I can do about it now. I’m really tired of being at the whims of others simply because I’m poor.





    1. Thank you. And, yup, a literal and figurative mess. It IS a mixed bag. Weirdly, one of the things that made me go “ahhhh” was that I had a pair of linen curtains from a long ago home, that fits the tall window (10 ft ceiling) AND a nice pair of sheers to go under it. Something about that fabric (mercifully not mildewed) hiding the ugly apartment blinds is just comforting. Total surprise.

      You were supposed to laugh at the photo. 🙂

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