Moving on

We left our apartment in NJ a few days past a year to the day that we arrived. Packing and moving took longer than we expected. Partly because of Max. Partly because of the icy/rainy weather. Mostly because the movers were to arrive at 9 and didn't get there until 11:30. And they were slower than turtles stampeding through peanut butter.

C'mon. Is anyone surprised?

I could go on about the things these guys did to annoy me, but I won't. Let's just say that if we never see our things again I won't be shocked. I'm sure they're perfectly nice people, but their professionalism and attention to detail is what I question. For example, they left a mirror in the living room. When I asked one of the guys about it, he raised an eyebrow. "You want that? Isn't it from Ikea?"

I think that was an insult.

By the time they left, it had taken them HOURS to empty our tiny apartment. Garrett and I then began the cleaning and hole-filling process. Of course, no furniture remained, so I got on his shoulders--an activity that I recall as much easier when I was a cheerleader ** years ago. On the bright side, we didn't fall and the holes were filled.

The latter did not happen without incident.

Of course.

"Oh no," Garrett said.

I looked up from whatever activity I was doing and saw Garrett covered in thick white paste. It glopped from the tube, down his arm and onto the floor. "What happened?" I asked.

As we both grabbed spare napkins and paper towels, he explained that the Spackle had squirted out the wrong end. He didn't know how.

Of course.

At that time, we were convinced we were going to drive as soon as we got out of there last night. (We didn't, though.) Anyway, we were rushed and I instructed him to continue filling holes while I cleaned up the mess.

I grabbed what I thought was a firm piece of cardboard and used to it to scrape the excess goo before wiping it. After a few attempts, the cardboard bent and flipped a gob of goop directly into my eye.

Of course.

I was on all fours crying, "My eye! My eye!" before I realized it didn't really hurt. Garrett frantically read the warning label and instructed me to flush my eye with water.

Oh yeah, I'm totally a handy man.

And I never want to move again.