Thoughts From the Move

It is official. We have moved out of our house and are now officially homeless, dependent on the kindness of family to house us. So now that I am not running around like a crazy woman, I can share a few thoughts and stories from the whole moving experience.

My Apologies

First of all, I must apologize to all of my friends who have moved. Why was I not there to help you? I am so sorry. I just never knew. I never fully realized the pain that is moving. Holy schmoley! And moving with three kids helping you and one husband not helping....much....is like eating cardboard. Except eating cardboard is more fun.

Packing + Being Passionate About Recycling= Slow Moving

Seriously. It would have gone a lot faster if I had no compunction whatsoever about throwing everything in the trash. But oh no, not me. I have to be OCD about it.

Playing Queen of the World Is Only Fun Until Someone Sees You

Being OCD about recycling means an overflowing recycling cart. And an overflowing recycling cart leads to someone whose name I will not mention climbing on top of her cart and jumping on top of it, trying to compress the recyclables while neighbors walking dogs pass by. Such a great moment.

Dumpster Diving Can Save You $$$

I got most of my moving boxes from people off of Craig's List. However, I was still in need of a box big enough to fit a mirror and some pictures. I was in a time crunch. So I did something I never thought I would do: I stopped at a box store. Here's how it went down:

Box Store Person: Hi, can I help you?

Me: Yeah, I'm looking for a box for framed art and mirrors.

Box Store Person: Oh, we have one right here.

Me: (after seeing that it cost $19) Is this the price for one or for a pack of boxes?

Box Store Person: That's just for one.

Me: (incredulous and huffy) There's no way I'm going to pay $19 for one box. How about I just drive around back and look through your trash?

Ok, not really. Not that last part. But as I was driving away I did notice the dumpsters behind the box store and a certain large cardboard recycling dumpster with the most perfect giant HDTV box. What goes around comes around baby. I think it was karma. So I returned later that day in my super stealthy minivan and fished out that box right under the nose of Mr. Box Store Person while giggling maniacally, "Hee Hee. Hee Hee Haw Haw. Hee Hee Hee Ho Ho Haw Haw."

I gleefully presented my find to MJ. He just kind of shook his head and said, "Kasey, we can afford boxes." But it's not whether we can afford it or not. It's the principle of it. Selling one box for $19 is a ripoff, especially when people throw that same thing out every day.

Where There's Smoke, There's Your Refrigerator

Only when you are insanely busy with packing will your refrigerator decide to burn up its overload relay device and smoke out your house. While I was taking the kids to school, I got a call from MJ saying that our house was filled with smoke. Naturally, he thought it was caused by something I had packed in one of the boxes. When I finally persuaded him that I had not packed flammables in any of the boxes, he started looking for a new culprit. The toaster oven, an appliance he has always had it out for because it unfailingly delivers him burned toast each time he uses it, was put in the giveaway pile.

But the toaster oven was falsely accused. The true culprit of the smoke was detected by my own sophisticated sleuthing abilities. You see, only a highly trained specialist would think to test the consistency of ice cream in the middle of the afternoon. How would I think to open the ice cream carton? It's all part of the job folks. You have to know these things when your other job is with the CIA.

So I was happy to rescue the toaster oven from the giveaway pile. MJ, not so much.

Well, farewell Baxter! You were a good house for our family.