Moving is hell on earth, they say.

Every time I think I can't do another thing, I think to myself, "Don't worry, you won't ever have to do this again if you don't want to!" It gives me the strength to go on for another half hour or so. This move is dragging on all month long. I don't know why. Probably because I refuse to take any vacation time for it. Plus I'm not a skilled packer because I hate to organize things but I know I have to, so I procrastinate since that's what I do best. I paid rent on my apt for November so I've put myself in this position. But now I am afraid to look at my bank account for fear that I won't have enough to rent a truck for my second-hand furniture. But I ought to start from the beginning instead of the end.

I found out that the roof needs fixed, the wiring needs updated before I can even put a dryer in or use a microwave and coffee maker at the same time, the carpet had a big hole in it and the lawn needed mowed but I don't know how to turn on a lawn mower!

Last week, I sensed anxiety lurking beneath my typically cocksure exterior when I found myself calling X whining, "Are you going to get out here and help me or not." Thankfully, I recovered from that fit of delusion within 24 hours. On my day off, I arrived at the house early. All by myself, just me. I had made an impulse purchase of some laminate wood flooring because I **thought** it was cheap. And now I had no idea how I'd get the carpet out and the flooring in. I felt lost. I fumbled around with the carpet where there was a big hole, and found that it came up easily. I got a hammer and a flat head screwdriver out of my little tool box and found that, while difficult, these items made it possible to rip out the trim and the pieces of wood nailed to the concrete that have little nails sticking up to somehow hold the carpet in place. I suffered some setbacks. I could not get some of it up and wanted to give up. I rifled around the workshop for something else to use. I cursed the former owner's family, who moved all of her things and took all of the tools out of the workshop. Yeah, I wanted to use Elizabeth's late husband Jack's tools, I'll admit it. But I was also pissed off that they would remove those tools from a place they'd been for 60 years. Jack had painted each tool turquoise and outlined a spot on the wall for each, so anyone would know where to return it. Now there are just outlines.

But I still rifled around. Then something caught my eye. An oddly shaped tool was hanging off one of the workbenches. Obviously they missed one. It was turquoise, after all. I pulled it out and thought, "hey this would work!" It looked like an iron snake, about 1 ft long. In minutes I had all the nasty wood strips with nails in them up and in a box, ready for the alley. I cut the carpet and padding up, rolled it all up neatly into small bundles and tied them with string. Then I called my brother and told him I needed him to help me with something.

He was worried. He knew what I wanted. I wanted him to get over there and take the carpet out for me. But when he got there, he was surprised to find that I had already done it! He helped carry the junk to the alley. Next day, I knew I had to paint at least the living room and dining room because I don't like dusty pink in EVERY room! I got my supplies and even bought a paint sprayer that ultimately didn't do much but waste my time and expensive paint.
And splatter the ceiling. By 2 pm the next day, the painting was complete. Good thing, because I had to be back working by around 2 a.m. The day after that, I checked my personal cell phone on my way home from work. Two missed calls from Brother. I called him back. "Where you at?" he questioned.

"On my way home."
"Which home?"
"A. P. T."
"Well come over to your new house. I want you to see something."
"What, what's the matter."
"Nothing, just come over."
"What are you doing over there?"
"Just get over here."

Lo and behold, Brother had spent all day laying my flooring. It looked incredible. And it helped make the paint color look not so much like a circa 1987 Golden Girls episode. I was SO grateful.

Finally, I wanted to thank Jack for having that tool in the first place and then hiding it so the evil family members couldn't steal it from us! I was grateful to Elizabeth for taking such meticulous care of the house for all those years. I was grateful to Brother for being such a good, kind guy. How'd he ever finally grow up to be this wonderful man? Finally, I was grateful to X for being SUCH A jerk on the phone that I decided I'd rather sleep on a floor with no electricity at ALL then to seriously consider begging him for his unskilled, grudging assistance.

Because you know what? I don't need him! All I need is to accept that I can take care of it myself.
I'm going to get a part time job at Home Depot if they give discounts. I have LOTS of stuff to do.