Are adages true? I hope so.

You know the one that says that rain on a wedding day is good luck for everything that comes after? Do you imagine that the same thing goes for plans gone awry?

Got up early after a mind-racing night of planmaking. Got as much done as I could to make it easy for the movers who were supposed to be here between 8 and 10 ayem. Silly me.

10:30, no van, no movers, no calls. I called the move coordinator who had to phone the van guys to find out what happened. And oh, joy, they hadn’t bothered to tell her that, of the two moves scheduled for that day, they had gone to the wrong one first, and wouldn’t get here until 1:30.

Shit happens. Except that, in this instance, it keeps happening. No one phoned me to tell me on which of the two possible dates the move was happening. Not until I phoned them. And they have no cross-country drivers, which means that I am paying for an apartment in which I will have no living supplies except what I take with me in my car and buy in Denver. Thank heaven for the carrying capacity of PT Cruisers.

I’ll hole up in a hotel for a couple of days…easier to unload what I brought; less stress on critters. I’ll meet up with Craigslist folks to pick up a couple of pieces of furniture I’ve been considering. I’ll sleep on my good, big air mattress and sit on the floor; I’ve camped out in worse circumstances.

I wanted this to go seamlessly. Perhaps it still will. Each scrape toughens the calluses for the next one. Until I can truly be unmoved—literally and figuratively—by everything this adventure is taking out of me.

 

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