storage space meltdown

I am in the middle of a move. Like, a big one.  We’ve had a rough year with infertility and we decided that we needed to press pause on the world that we were living in, and have an adventure to clear our heads.  What a stupid idea. Okay, not really, but on the upside I have discovered that I am an absolute pleasure to move with.  Nope again.  I don’t know why I keep lying.  I have actually found that nothing NOTHING has brought out the worst in me like moving overseas.  I am a grade-A, moving terrorist.

When we went to load our final selection of items to move with us at the shipping location, we were over our allotted space. 200 cubic feet.  Go look that up because it fits about, I don’t know…an amoeba collection.  We had to leave behind about 1/8th of our stuff.  (Mind you this is after my husband had already basically narrowed down our items to NO ITEMS.)

So, la la we had to  bring back that 1/8th of move-rejects to the storage unit where I then started to unravel.  I wish I could say that it was the first time, but it was not.  My husband is a hero for putting up with this sh**, because I would not have it.  Back at the storage facility, we were unloading the U-Haul and had that loud, awful ramp pulled out and started moving things down.  At one point I think I actually declared that I “could slit my wrists!” when a box I was pushing got caught on a metal ridge for .576 seconds.  A moment after that, I tripped on something. like a paperclip, and this is when the good stuff comes.

somehow I blame this on the fact that I don’t have a baby.

I stomped STOMPED on that ramp like 10 good, loud stomps, fists and teeth clenched- I had gone animal. My husband watched in horror with “W.T.F” eyes.  You know what I’m talking about.  If you haven’t seen “W.T.F” eyes, you just haven’t been dating or married long enough. OR if you have already seen them and you are newly dating, it’s over.  Just breakup now.

After a real nice stompathon, I went back into the U-Haul becaaauuuse I needed to throw something! Duh!  Well, much to my pleasure what did I see, but an innocent yoga mat- just begging to be abused. The irony is not lost on me as I look back on how I annihilated this symbol of mental peace and balance. I took that yoga mat b***h and I threw it! Then I went to get it and threw it again, and then AGAIN! like those giant men who do the hammer throw at the Olympics- did the scream and everything!  It was awesome!  (It was okay because our unit is deep in the bowels of this place.)

Once all that was all over and we had spent the next hour and a half “cheerily” going on with the rest of our work, we went up to the office to turn in our U-Haul keys and end the nightmare that the day had become.

And THAT is when I saw the closed circuit t.v channel in the office recording at the  scene of my storage space meltdown.

namaste.

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out the window. almost.

Today we basically had our first major dog incident. Norm just terrorized my emotions.  We were driving down the highway and he had his little shnozz just resting on top of his rolled down window (like he has done his whole little life) suddenly, I heard a different sound- like movement- “(weird, norman never moves)” and when I turned back to check on the mysterious sound, he was halfway out of the window.  (okay side note… to give you an idea of the kind of intelligence we are working with, please see pic below.  This is Norm on the very same ride while we were stopped at a red.  He was in that position for a good 25 minutes before our wituation (*window situation, not to be confused with a *witch situation which would be spelled the same) occurred.

I don’t know why he does this while we drive.  It’s really weird. His head is super awkward- that can’t be comfortable, and the bottom of his chin is completely plastered to the back of the seat at that weird angle. So the wituation was that while I was driving-  yes, every pet owner’s worst carmare (car nightmare) come to life- I notice in my peripheral vision, after I heard the mystery noise while I happily sang along to soft rock….. Norman. His ears flapping in the wind, hanging half way out the window- I’m pretty sure I heard him laughing.  I immediately about crashed the car as I was doing this awkward move where I was trying to hit the breaks without causing him to fly out, roll the window up without leading him to jump out instead of in, and swerving to avoid anything that wasn’t MY DOG GETTING HIS LITTLE BLACK A** BACK IN THE CAR. now don’t go all being offended.  he actually has a black ass.

see?

Norman takes a moment to ponder his purpose

I start screaming “NORMAN!!!!! NORMAN, COME!”  as if that has ever actually been effective… but I really thought maybe he would pick up on the urgency in my voice and we would have one of those amazing moments when we speak the same language and he gets Lassie-like and actually does something inspired.  nope.   I finally had to just wave my arm back and forth until I could find something on his body to grab- he has lots of extra, Bassety skin, so you’d think it would be easy, but I lost my grip on that worthless putty a million times.  Finally, I got a hold of his tail and just PULLED. pulled the crap out that tail!  Norman abuse style! As I was doing this I was actually apologizing to him and then he crashed to the floor board- just awful and yet it’s like he didn’t even notice it happen. Welp, I had to get him IN instead of DEAD and he wasn’t COMING WHEN CALLED LIKE A NORMAL, TRAINED DOG, so this was safest way to stop him from being A total JOYRIDING-ASS-BAG.

When I reached my destination, which, ironically, was a  a do-it-yourself bath pampering session for HIM, ( if this were my kid this would have been akin to giving him ice cream after a tantrum whilest on our way to the ice cream shop) I was shaking and crying and in no mood to pamper him because we were in a huge fight. Lesson learned though.  Windows. Stay. UP.