Sitting on the Floor of My New Home

That is because I don't yet have a couch, having left behind the shitty brown one for the neighbor's to snatch up (which they did--I noticed that when I returned to clean, their old couch was on the side of the house and mine had vanished). I am waiting for two things right now--the cleaning lady to find my home, and the furniture dude to deliver the new tables I bought on Saturday at Ethnics. I am certain they will both show up at the same time and I'll have to juggle the awkwardness somehow. The last week has been crazy and tiring. I hate moving. It sucked, even though I had Mambo Movers, because of course, I had to take over two loads of stuff beforehand and so climbed about 500 sets of stairs. Then there's going over to clean the old place, which I did, but I wouldn't say it was a stellar job. I cleaned for three hours, but I didn't spackle or scrub the floors like I probably should have. And then there was the cable dude who convinced me to not run the cable upstairs, but instead get a router that I now can't figure out how to install. And Lisa Marie came over on Sunday and we spent about three hours disassembling the cat castle to make it more manageable and to get rid of all of the icky cat fur. Now it's naked and broken, but it'll be better if we can get it together. I've decided also that the bathroom is too small and so would like to use the Obama money to expand it into the tiny third bedroom. Would that be insane? To give up a small, small room for a bigger, more manageable bathroom? I don't know.

Other things that happened:

1. As soon as the movers finished up, I immediately locked myself out of the house. One of the movers said he would try to get into the back. In the meantime, I figured out that I could almost get in through the letter slot and so I used this screw driver to remove it and, just as I was opening the front door, Mark, the mover, came bounding down, having scaled the back alley wall, climbed up on the air conditioner, and shimmied up the side wall to the window in the second bedroom that was unlocked. So, it was kind of anticlimactic in a way, because he didn't get to be the hero. As compensation, I gave him my Raleigh bike, since I realized it's too heavy for me to feasibly take up and down the basement stairs (of course, now SEPTA is on strike and so it would've been nice to have the bike available...). I asked him to please not come back and kill me later.

2.Last night, I managed to set off the burglar alarm for about twenty minutes. I thought it had been deactivated, but it hadn't, and so it screamed for a long, long, long time while I scrambled to find the phone number of the previous owners, tried to call Brinks, tried to call Jeanne, and emailed the owners to beg them to call me with the code, which they finally did, thank God.