We are moved. I hated it. It could be because I expected to hate it, or it could be because:
We were locked out of the house by the previous owners who had helpfully locked all the keys in the house and left the garage door opener with our real estate agent. A cunning plan, except that they (I am sure) absent-mindedly locked the door from the garage into the house on the way out. We had to call a locksmith to break into our new home. The locksmith asked us, "Can you show me proof that it is your house?" Yeah, like we've already gone to the DMV, changed our driver's license addresses, replaced our checks, and carry the recorded deed upon our person on moving day. "How about the big-ass moving truck in the driveway?"
The telephone guy had to come twice and the cable guy had to come twice and needs to come back again. That means 5 days of either (1) waiting for service guys who, we are helpfully informed, will be here between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. and who invariably show up at 4:45, or (2) trying to help, or alternatively, looking busy while not helping, cable guys who do not seem to, technically, know what a cable is.
Fire fighter dudes who are happy, goofy labrador retriever-types who like to help but don't seem concerned about the collateral damage of said help. For those of you out there who may be considering asking a fire fighter to help you move, a word of warning: the three favorite phrases of fire fighter movers are: "Ramming speed," "Oops," and "Oh well, I can't see that from my house."
The cat is afraid of the laundry room, which is the only logical place to put her litter box. A cat with a fear of the litter box is a loaded weapon. The leather recliner smells funny now.
We planned a house warming party for a week after the move, thinking we would be more or less moved in by then. The day of the party, we were still working at a feverish pace trying to make the place fit for human habitation, while still making the obligatory Costco trip for party food and liquor store trip for party beverages. By party time, we managed a lame attempt at a mediocre taco buffet, and forgot the big party veggie tray in the fridge and the frozen taquitos in the freezer. The house was empty by 10:30. The. Last. House Warming Party. Ever.
The bright side?
There were several opportunities to carry in lamps and say, "I love lamp."
My new big-ass soaking tub is gooooood.
My new kitchen has so many drawers some remain empty. Really.
The floors don't squeak! I had no idea how much the squeaks were making me crrrazy until they were gone. It's like noticing that your head-ache has gone away. Aaaaahhh....