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.