The Night before the Day of...

It's crunch time, and then some. This last week has been a trip. A real trip. For Rod, at any rate.

Wednesday night: We had to run from work to the North end to get the U-haul truck we reserved, a 10-ft box. On the way, Rod informed me that his Baba had fallen and suffered some injuries (she's about 94 years old or so), so we had to get the truck and go out to Vegreville. We got to the U-haul, and they said no, the truck was at the original place we arranged to pick it up at, a depot in Central Edmonton. So back into the car and away we go. We got there to a drycleaning shop, walked in and told them why we were there, and they looked at us like we were crazy. They don't have 10 ft trucks, and furthermore what they did have available wasn't for out of town. Fuck. After over an hour on the phone and so on and so forth, U-haul arranged to give us a 17 ft. truck for the same price as the 10 ft. deal. We got it, we ran home to change to go get Marie, and Rod realizes we need to buy a lock for the back of the truck, so he runs over the Shoppers to get one. I'm waiting, it's already close to 7, and it's a time crunch. He comes back, parks and locks the truck, and we go to the McDonald's on 112 Ave to get Marie, where Rod realizes he's lost his wallet. Fuck. We ate, we decided we can't get out to Veg, so back here to search for the wallet somewhere between our place, Shoppers and the truck, which is a one block radius. It was so stressful, I was in tears. About 45 minutes later, I'm in the back alley alone, and some dude was wandering around looking for "Bruce". My heart skipped a beat as I informed him I was looking for my Husband's wallet, and he produces it. I could've kissed him.

So a night of packing was lost, I had to take Thursday morning off (unpaid) to pack and help Rod load the truck, and get things ready for him to get on his way.

Friday: Rod gets to the apartment in Burnaby, and guess what! There's a U-haul out front, and the previous tenant is *just* moving out, a full 6 days after he was supposed to have vacated. So Rod's not going to get our stuff in until the evening, and the suite isn't ready. The painter's coming in, the carpet cleaners are coming in, and the suite inspection can't be done. Boo. Worse still, Rod had nowhere to stay, so the building put him in the social room where there's a futon, they comp his meal, and offer to pro-rate us a full day on our rent next month. If this is what it's like just to move in, I can only imagine the nightmare of getting repairs and maintenance requests completed. I foresee a short stay in that location.

Saturday: Rod flies home. Little else is accomplished.

Sunday: Packing. Packing. Packing. Which means I pack, and Rod piddles around with the mess of papers and crap around his desk, sorting and then not packing said crap. Discouraged, I get little else done too. Fuck it, if he can work slowly, so can I, right? Plus, it's TV night!

Monday: Supper with Lori, Jette and Chris. Good times! Pictures involved, none here. Home to pack sparingly. Not good times.

Tuesday: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! TOO MUCH TO DO! HEAD ESPLODING!! (READ: Rod leave tomorrow with almost everything else.)