The big day--moving into my new home. I'm excited and can't get the car loaded fast enough. Still have the apartment to clean; I want my entire deposit back. It takes foreverrrrr! Why is that, missy? Don't have a clue. I've deliberately not used the apartment as much as possible. No cooking on the stove because I'm not cleaning it. So the kitchen is a breeze. As are the other rooms. But I had stuff that seemed to explode once suitcases and tote bags were opened. How did all that stuff fit? It won't go back in no matter how I try. And the remaining plants now weigh a ton. All this computer equipment to be disassembled and packed. Everybody has a laptop except me. Good grief!
Everything is finally in the car. Floors mopped and vacuumed; time to hit the road. Drop off the keys, etc., at the leasing office. Dump the trash in the stylish dumpster (it really is a classy place) and to the bank. Money is like time. It just keeps slipping away. The teller and I are in deep discussion because it does not have branches in Ripley or nearby. So some money has to stay there to cover outstanding checks. Finished and ready to face I-40. Is this car heavy or what? It didn't seem to be that heavy getting to the Mid-South but now I can feel the load. Uncomfortable flying down the highway. Why?
Pulled into my driveway--sweet words--and was greeted by my furry animals. I was not walking past them. No Way! I pulled as close to the back door as possible and began to unload. A good thing because the plants gained weight during the ride from Cordova.
Got a call from the rep from Home Depot who was unable to make it the previous day. He was in the neighborhood and could stop by. Fine, park in the driveway at the back because the doorbell doesn't work. Why would he come to the front door? I just happened to be walking through and heard the tapping on the glass. What is it? Don't I speak clear English?
He wanted to check the roof from the attic. I've found the access panel and have a ladder handy. Do I have ladders? You betcha. Four at the last count and need an eight-footer. He asks when did the fire occur? Fire! What fire? Brings down the photos he'd taken with his digital. Yep. There was a fire but when? And why wasn't I told about it? Doesn't TN have disclosure laws? I am ticked! He explains that he has to give his findings to his team before they can come up with an estimate. Okay. Where is your car? "Oh, you told me to go around the block and park in the driveway but I parked in the driveway next door." I am clearly having a communication problem. I still haven't met my neighbor and people are using her driveway. Give me a break.
Coming up nightfall. I've sat in the backyard and then moved to the front. No phone, no tv, and lighting is scarce. The bathroom is filthy; shower's not working--needed new fixtures--plumber returning in the morning. If I can just clean the sink, that will do for a wash up. Uuggh, dead mouse in the tub. Plumber had looked at it and said, "Yep, that's a long tail there," and left. So did the handyman. Guess I should have been more specific and asked them to get it out. Uuuggh. Nothing to do but sweep it out. Head averted and hoping I get it first time. Lord, lord, city girl needs to toughen up. Locate sheets and a lamp. Start cleaning the bathroom sink. There's a yellowish scum that is not going anywhere--scrub brushes, copper pad, every cleaner known to man--it is not budging. Got it cleaned enough for a fast dab in the important places.
Too dark, too much space, too many doors and windows. Air's not moving. Fumes from the cleaners, the dust, and mildew are killing me. What am I breathing? Uneasy about being in the house. Up most of the night.
Daybreak at last! I'm off to McDonald's at 5:45 a.m. for the coffee. Abby and I raised a lot of eyebrows when we hit the parking lot. Couldn't help but grin at the "regulars" as they all but asked "who are you and why are you here?" It was written all over their faces. Took my pancakes and sausage back to the house to enjoy the solitude of the backyard with my furry friends.