Falling Down & Screwing Up

Best Laid Plans Of Mouse & Man...


Well, we're HERE.

The only problem is, bits and pieces of our stuff is...

STILL over THERE.

By "over THERE", I mean over at the Condo.

Dang it...

We only managed to make two of the five or six final trips in my Suburban yesterday, with yesterday's second excursion featuring a final visit to the swimming pool.

Pat and Missy the Turbo Pup hung out poolside because Pat's back is bothering her, and I spun around in circles moving most of the plants out onto the front patio and loading another load of boxes and the more fragile stuff on board the SUV.

The ambient temperature was about 94 degrees F, with a heat index over 104 degrees F by 6 PM. We came home, unloaded most of our booty, and I collapsed on the sofa.

Then I got back up and, after making a late pizza dinner featuring a funky "eyeballed " crust (the measuring cups got left over at the Condo), I was asleep in the bed by 10 PM.

I woke up at midnight with a huge headache and with every muscle in my body cramping--at least that's the way it felt like.

It was my own fault. I sorta forgot to drink much Gatorade yesterday, and the water and white wine I consumed poolside just didn't get it when it came to replacing the minerals lost while sweating out a couple of gallons of my insides in the loading and moving process.

After drinking a few quarts of Gatorade and jumping around the living room walking like a three legged dog for an hour or so, I finally managed to settle down about four AM and get some more sleep. Come 8 AM I was still groggy and weak and, as a result, today has been a bust when it comes to picking up and moving more stuff from point A to point B.

As a further deterrent, the Weather Channel says that today it's a frigid NINETY SEVEN DEGREES FAHRENHEIT outside, with a heat index near 110, so paying our old landlord another $34 is an acceptable penance for my middle aged slovenly conditioning.

Expert procrastination has ensued all day, using my faint heart and wobbling legs as a mental excuse. I ended up sleeping until noon, then I did manage to open and unpack a few boxes standing inside in AC comfort while Pat made a rare solo jaunt over to Brunswick to pick up some necessities.

Just now when it came time to sneak back over to the condo we realized that Georgia Power had probably turned off the electricity because we were supposed to move last Wednesday rather than Saturday.

Sure enough, after placing a phone call and enduring the inevitable English/Spanish menu questions, we learned the juice was indeed off as of about noon today, but they would be happy to turn it back on for a $22 fee.

Sure...go ahead...it's only MONEY.

So I'm going to lounge around breaking down empty boxes, pack plastic bags full of foam peanuts, and cram bubble wrap squares back into the original boxes and possibly attempt to stash the whole moving mishmash somewhere up into the attic over the garage.

Then I'm going to write myself an industrial strength rant about the stupidity of the County GOVERNMENT forcing its home owning citizens and landlords to accept paying for trash services in their property tax bill.

No competition equals crappy service, no matter what the stupid "Bureaucrats" and popularly elected "gummunt officials" tell you...