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Moving Tip #1: Don’t Move!

Written By: Humor Mike - Jul• 04•20

Boxes, boxes, boxes

For those of you who haven’t heard my faint cries for help from afar over the past few months, I recently moved. Now, I’ve never been one to be overly dramatic, but I’m here to tell you I’m never moving again. Even if World War 22, The Battle of Walmart vs Target, broke out right here in my apartment complex, I would throw on a wig and pretend I’m Jennifer Hudson in Dreamgirls and sing from my balcony, “And I am telling you, I’m not going.”

Seven or so years ago, I moved from this apartment complex into the next one over because I was attempting to be financially responsible. But after crying every day for seven years, I decided that being responsible was overrated. Somehow, I was going to find a way back from whence I came … one way or the other … even if I’d have to dust off my old stripper boots to do so.

Because I’m now deeply rooted into middle age, I’ve acquired a few things as one tends to do throughout life. I’m just not sure how those things required no less than 142 boxes to pack up. Side note, if you ever have a question about a box, I can be your go-to person. I’ve seen every type of box there is to see. Big boxes. Small boxes. Wine boxes. All boxes.

Sadly, my mother refused to move my stuff for me, so I had to hire movers. I called for a quote and told the service rep that I wanted the full process done in 15 to 30 minutes, tops. The rep just laughed and mentioned something about labor laws, which went over my head. I begrudgingly agreed to a four-hour time block, but only if he allowed me to pay with used lottery tickets and cold cuts.

Making things a bit more complicated, I moved from a fourth-floor apartment to another fourth-floor apartment. That noted, there were steps involved. Many, many steps. Like, a lot of them. This did not go unnoticed by the movers who practically revolted in the middle of my move. When the process took eight hours instead of four, the owner shamed me and said, “Well, you have a lot of stuff. I just hope my men still show up for work tomorrow.”

Besides learning to navigate movers who threaten to overthrow the system and actually throw my TV, this move taught me a lot. I learned how to remove old tint from windows so that I could actually see through them. I learned that Xfinity has different tech support agents to assist with cable, internet, and phone issues. So, if you have problems with all three, like I did, you’ll have to talk to no less than 20 people and be transferred at least 42 times.

I also learned about cleaning supplies. Unfortunately, I didn’t learn this at my old apartment. No, I learned this at my new one. As I touched one sticky surface after another and saw stains that would give me nightmares for weeks, it made me wonder who the former tenants were. Where did all that grime come from? Did they like to fry chicken on a random Wednesday? Had they made a nice curry and decided it was better on the wall than on a plate? Did they leave anything else behind … like a ghost? I asked that last question aloud, but I didn’t get an answer—yet.

Although there were many stumbles along the way, there are a few things that I’m absolutely proud of. Of course, I already had a tool kit with a screwdriver because I’m an adult, but I finally caved in and bought a step ladder. This made hanging pictures so much easier. I used to have to shoot nails at the wall and then sling paintings like a Frisbee at the nails, hoping for the best. Although the paintings look more professional this way, I did hang my Doctorate of Green Trees degree sideways in memory of the way it hung in my old apartment.

No, you can’t borrow my step ladder. I may need it next year.

My maturing as a fully formed apartment renter also led me to purchase a steam cleaner. I used to rent one from the grocery store, but because of the pandemic, most stores stopped renting them out. I purchased mine from Amazon and planned to return it after I used it, but I opted not to so that I could feel like a good person. Sometimes you need that.

Actually, keeping it was a great idea because it will definitely come in handy in the future. I’ve spilled everything you could possibly spill in my new apartment. Coffee. Wine. A hot dog. The latter caused me to leave a trail of ketchup and mustard all the way to the bathroom as I ran to shower relish off me. I guess you could say I was kind of in a pickle.

Yes, I got a steam cleaner…because I’m an adult!

Speaking of cleaning, you would have been so proud of how thoroughly I cleaned the old apartment before handing over the keys. I didn’t want to leave any remnants of Michael behind, so I scrubbed and power washed those rooms like it was nobody’s business. I actually cleaned the old apartment way better than I ever had when I lived there. I guess you can say I’m serious about getting my $20 deposit back.

You all would have also been so proud of the way I navigated other challenges as they arose. When my brand-new TV stand arrived missing a leg, I accepted it anyway. Three-legged TV stands need good homes too. It’s only right. It wobbles a bit, and my TV has slid right off it several times, but if we are ever allowed to invite people over again, maybe we can we can draw straws and the loser can hold the stand steady while the rest of us watch TV. Maybe my mom can do it. After all, I’ve done a lot for her over the years. I practically raised her. The least she could do is hold the TV steady while I watch The Bachelor.

The infamous TV stand.

I’m also happy to report that my fish love their new home. It took a while to get to that point, though. Like the movers, they had threatened to revolt a few times. Much like their caretaker, they aren’t always the best with change. However, we worked through it with a lot of therapy and prayer. My shrink wasn’t excited about doing a fish therapy session, but when I pulled them out of my pocket, she kind of had no choice. And before you call Fish Protective Services, I had them in a Ziploc bag, so they were safe.

In closing, in case I wasn’t clear before, I am not moving again. Ever! If there aren’t elevators installed in this building by the time I’m 80, which is just a few years down the road, I will have to hire someone to throw down a basket from my balcony to hoist me up so I can come and go as I please. People keep telling me that I should buy a house, and I’m open to that as long as they can build the house around me inside this apartment … because I’m not moving!

Michael Rochelle
Humor blog: www.HumorMike.com
Facebook: michael.rochelle1
Instagram: HumorMike
Twitter: @mikeyllo

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