Turns out, in the last decade, I've moved just about every year. Before that, I was a military kid and we moved every other year or so.
That kinda makes me a pro. But I can't say I enjoy packing, carrying heavy things, maneuvering furniture in poorly laid out spaces, not knowing where the one thing I need is at the moment I need it, and then the unpacking.
Some of my bins haven't been unpacked in nearly a decade. Both of us have a handful of boxes we've just been carting around the country for years. It ends now.
But, in the meantime, I'll revisit a few of my moving horror stories. And there have been a few doozies.
When my dad retired from the military, we got lucky and got to stay in Virginia. I was a sophomore in high school when he retired and didn't really want to move for my last two years. But, my parents bought a house and we moved a few miles across town.
On the day our truck was supposed to arrive at the new house, it was pouring rain. Buckets and buckets and buckets of rain.
The movers came with the truck just to say they couldn't unload. But, the truck got wet, then the crates sat in storage for two weeks. We sat in an empty house for two weeks. Somehow, I got talked into seeing "What Lies Beneath" with friends. Have I mentioned how much I hate scary movies?
So I was scared out of my mind, afraid to open closets in case there would be, I don't know, terrifying things in there. If you've seen the movie, you might remember the steamy mirror with the reflection of the ghost-thing. Yeah, I still won't wipe off a steamed up mirror. It's been more than 10 years. There's also things that appear out of fog in the movie. There was a lot of that happening on the way home from the movie and then there was a huge storm with flickering lights and high wind and I was home alone and I was terrified. I ended up at a friend's house watching Wheel of Fortune with his mom until my dad got home.
When the truck arrived, a lot of our things were ruined. A lot of it was replaceable, but some of it was not. That was the worst part.
Then there was the time I moved from Alabama back to Virginia. I packed and loaded a 16-foot moving truck myself, with some help from friends. I had wanted a smaller truck since really I didn't have that much and had to tow my car. Guys, I drive a Corolla. And was going to be the length of a semi with the truck and trailer. When they tried to give me a 20-something foot truck, I actually stood in the lot and cried.
Smaller truck acquired, I headed north, toward my mighty Commonwealth. By myself, with my puppy, towing my car. The plan was to stop the first night in North Carolina. I missed my turn for the hotel and so I went a bit further and ended up in a residential area.
I saw a sign for something lane and in my head, I figured it would be a cul de sac because my parents live in a lane and it's a big cul de sac at the end. Yeah, it didn't go that way.
The road dead ended, just up and ended into a bunch of trees. The road was narrow, with ditches and cars parked on both side. After a few minutes of crying, cursing and freaking out, I decided I was going to attempt to back up and turn around.
I was at it for awhile when I decided that the yard on one side was huge enough and the ditch shallow enough that I could use that space to help me turn around.
I got the truck stuck in the ditch, at 2 a.m., in someone's yard.
Now there was a lot of crying.
At one point, I even knocked on the door of the house that went with the ditch I was stuck in. They had big trucks so I figured there was a chance they'd actually be able to maneuver the truck and it looked like a tv was on in the front room. No one answered and I decided to try to Macgyver my way out of it. It wasn't working.
Eventually I got ahold of a tow company that wasn't hours away and wouldn't charge a ridiculous amount to get me out. It took awhile for the guy to get there, but when he did, more comedy ensued.
I got out to talk to him and after a few minutes, he said he'd just get in and see if he could back it out. But I forgot Grover was in the front seat and wasn't even a year old yet.
I got him out and we sat in the street, with Grover growling, while the tow guy tried to back up the truck.
That didn't work either, but the tow guy took the time to move slowly and let Grover check him out so he'd simmer down and said that Grover was just doing his job by protecting me.
Eventually, he got me out of the ditch and turned the truck so I could drive back out. He also called about 30 minutes after he left us to make sure we made it to the hotel okay.
I white knuckled it pretty much all the way to Virginia, but didn't get stuck in any more ditches.
The last week of moving was exhausting, but it didn't come close to horror stories, so there's that.