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Monday, February 6, 2012

Been Stoopid Crazy Busy

Sorry it has been so long since my last posting.

After I recovered from the fear of death from the flu of hell, I started to dig right in to the new year.  Right off the bat it was trying to find a new place to live in the same neighborhood.  The Realtor of our complex kept calling me and urging me to let him in as our place was the "most desirable" in the complex.  I am afraid I was not a good tennent by the time he tried the 3rd time.  I was getting cranky.  I finally had a meeting with the young man in the courtyard and explained this was our home and I work 120 hours a week (ok, might have stretched it a bit but sometimes it feels like I do) and when I get home, all I wanted to do was put on my ratty pajamas and wait for food to arrive in front of me.  He offered to buy me a robe.

Well, I got lucky (not in the traditional sense - too bad).  I happened to have located a pretty perfect place about 250 feet down the road.  It has a roof top deck that is pretty cool.  There is a pod bay door that opens in the ceiling and out you hop on to the roof.  I signed the lease and we were ready to go.  I began to scrounge dumpsters for boxes and started to pack.  It was a good time to downsize and I made 4 trips to the goodwill.  I changed all my addresses, booked a week of holiday, booked a moving company and had everything good to go for our move day of January 31st.

The trouble began at approximately 6:30pm on January 30th.  I was taking our ratty, broken down kitchen chairs out to the garbage bin.  I was carefully making my way down the outside stairs when it happened.  Not sure exactly HOW it happened - even now I am not sure.  It happened so fast.  First I had the chair in front of me and the next thing I knew I was flying through the air and landing, face first, on the bricks at the bottom of the stairs.  I felt pain and knew instantly that I had broken yet another toe (not my first so I feel qualified to self diagnose).  AND THEN,  I felt a new pain as I tried to roll over.  My rib cage was a giant ball of fire.  I layed there for about 15 minutes before I was finally able to get up.  A neighbor later said she heard the crash and saw the chair go flying but due to where I was laying, she didn't see me. 

I hobbled back inside and decided to just lay down for a bit.  Well, by 8:30pm, I realized that I had more than a broken toe and a sore rib cage.  I couldn't sit up without crying and breathing was a difficulty.  Not lilke I could ask my brother to help me as he is mobile only with the assistance of crutches however, after he finished shaking his head in disgust and asking if I will finally conceede what the family has long known - I am a genuine KLUTZ, he would drive me to the hospital.

He dropped me off and went home to await the inevitable call asking what he wanted to do about the body.  Holy Crap On A Cracker, I was in pain.  After the x-rays they had me taken care of pretty quick.  I had been worried that the same doctor I saw the last time I cracked my rib and he wouldn't be able to treat me properly due to his laughter.  Instead, I had a very nice, very good looking, young doctor who felt it his duty to explain how when you reach middle age, your bones do not heal as well.  I think he mistook the stunned expression on my face for rapt attention.

I survived the night with the help of some aptly named pain killers.  However, I was left wondering what to do about the move.  The movers were to arrive at 9am.  I needed time just to lever myself out of bed.  In addition to the 2 movers, whom I was so grateful to have hired, we had one friend who was not working that day to assist.  The movers arrived and I saw by their expression that something was wrong.  I had very specifically stated that we lived in a 2 bedroom, three level townhouse, lots of stairs, but they wouldn't have to move a sofa as I already sold it.  I guess the guy taking the information figured that it was a small job as he only booked us for 4 hours.  The mover (Bruce) said it was going to take much longer than they had.  I began to stress.  Kris is on crutches, I was wearing a sling and limping and it was raining.  Personally, my first thought was to check my fire insurance policy and then light a match to the whole thing.

I won't bore you with the horrid details of the worst move on earth but suffice to say, by the end of the day, with the movers long gone by 1:30 (taking my $600 with them), I was standing in a mess of rain soaked boxes and contemplating how I was going to get the rest of our stuff (turned out to be 8 other car loads) out of old place before the carpet cleaners showed up at 11am.  My landlord had already given us an extra day to move and I had to turn the keys in at 5pm on the 1st.  I had taken so many pain killers all day that my head was swimming and I was pretty sure I was constipated.

We finally managed to get everything out and the carpets cleaned and I headed to our new home limping pathetically along the street.  I pushed my way through the front door and stood in the middle of armeggedon.  My friend Heather had come over and set my bed up for me and Kris's friend came to make a path to his room and get his bed set up.  We now had another problem.  We had both bathrooms stacked with boxes and for reasons not quite understood, my Christmas tree in the bathtub.  I had to get the boxes moved so that we could at least do our business without having to run to the chinese restraurant all the time.  I had left the hospital with 1 cracked rib, one broken and one broken toe.  Moving those boxes turned the cracked rib into a broken rib and I crumbled like a sack of sand to the floor.  Kris told me to stop being so stupid.  He better watch it.  One of these days I am gonna hide his crutches and then tell him to stop whinning.

By thursday, Kris and I had no food and needed to go shopping.  Thankfully, our local store delivers if you shop and pay for it first.  So, off we went.  Understand, because we are downtown, everywhere you go you must pay for parking - even the grocery store.  Our store parking lot has a policy that if you lose your parking ticket (which you need to leave the lot), they charge you $25.  Because of this policy, I am always very careful with the ticket and keep it safe. 

Kris and I arrived - he on his crutches, me limping and wearing my arm in a sling and headed straight to customer service to arrange for delivery.  They were looking at us like a couple of rejects so Kris told them we were really bad base jumpers who had a bad day.  We had hobbled our way through the deli and produce and were in the bulk foods aisle when I realized I no longer had our parking ticket.  In a panic I backtracked our path through the store without luck.  I rushed to customer service and they sent another person to also search.  By the time Kris met us at customer service I was almost in tears.  They felt so bad for the injured base jumpers that they got the manager to let us out of the lot.

They forgot to deliver our oranges.

Saturday, my eldest child, son-in-law and grandkids came to help broken nanna.  The kids dumped my garbage, took out boxes and set up my roof top table.  Rae loves the hole in my ceiling and they were up there a lot.

Today we are back online.  We have TV and internet.  What on earth did people do before TV?  I read all my books already.  I am already starting to wonder how I even lived before PVR? 

Well, I have rambled on quite a bit now so will catch up more next time.

Ciao

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