I paraphrase, poorly I may add, The Color Purple.
It's the first thing that came to mind.
The truck came this morning. It was maybe 8:20ish. The weather we were expecting didn't make much of an impact, so we avoided a ton of mud and crud being tracked all over the place. That made me happy.
We got started working pretty quickly. While it is wayyyy nicer to have movers that it is to do everything yourself, you can't just sit idly by while they haul and unpack.
I mean, every item/box has to be inventoried and damages noted. You have to direct and answer questions and hope that your desires are fulfilled. You also need to be appropriately grateful. Playette had that part covered for us as she thanked each gentleman for each box that was brought into the master bedroom where we were perched for the first couple of hours. I tried to tell her than a couple of thank yous would suffice, but my girl loves her manners.
Yeah. Speaking of, all of this is much more difficult when you add in a three-and-a-half year old. No matter how polite she is.
Then, when everything is in, you've got the unpack. Awesome, right?
But I must say...unpack does not mean put away. No siree. Totally different.
There is crap everywhere.
Plus, there are things that I would rather have kept private strewn all over the floor. Yeesh.
At least, though, when they unpack, they take two tons of paper used to wrap everything and the hundreds of boxes with them. It's a trade off.
I attempted to make a dent by hanging clothes and putting away some dishes, but it was a fruitless effort. They caught up to me and caught up to me fast.
So, we'll get it done. Slowly, but surely. I'm totally not complaining. I like having my stuff back. And now I can start getting rid of all the things I never want to move again.
I'd love to now call the coordinator I