Sunshine, lollipops and ...

Caution, this entry was written by the overtired 

and contains some expletives

The best thing about today was obviously getting our new house.  Driving over there in convoy with the removalist's van, spanking new key in my bag, thinking about arriving in the driveway at the same time as Dad and Milo and while the chaps laboured joyfully in the sunshine, emptying the truck, the three new happy homeowners (sans the fourth, Mum, who was on her way after a final vac at the unit) ran through the vast empty spaces, playing hide and seek and other merry pursuits.

Bad Parenting 101 : Fun with plastic.

Except that that's not quite reflective of reality.  There was the convoy, and the key, and Mum vac-ing, yes.  But when I drove up there was a piece of shit of a man in the driveway, loading [insert collective noun for rubbish] from the garage into the back of his piece of shit van and piece of shit trailer.  I didn't know, at the time of course, that he was a piece of shit.  But it became quickly apparent.


I walked up, amiably I thought, and said "Hello.  We're here to move in."  
POS: What do you want me to do about it?
Me:  Well, I just want you to know my guys are on the clock. 
POS:  Do you think that's going to make me move faster?  


Now, I wasn't loving this exchange, obviously so I wandered off and let him go about his business, slowly, while we all waited and I rang the agent to ask if I could enter the premises.  (Of course, it's your house.)


So I stepped past POS (who was getting into his POS ready to drive off) and saw that the vendor had left behind a revolting filthy old fridge and a whole half a double garage full of cardboard boxes, buckets and other refuse.  My blood began to boil.


POS to mover:  Whinge whinge whine...I just don't like to be rushed.
Me:  Who are you working for?  
POS:  I'm not working for anyone. 
Me:  So what the eff are you doing trespassing in my effing house then?
POS:  I'm not in your house.
Me:  Well you were.  And you need to take that fridge.
POS:  That's not my problem.  I'm just doing what I do...


And like sands through the hourglass, so I wasted my breath.  


He could've just moved his van so the guys could start offloading.  (Oh, except that the garage was still full of crap.)

The movers and I hauled the refuse out of the garage
and onto the driveway.

So I ended up on the phone to the agent with a litany of complaints, and he made me ring the vendor herself, who would've been very nice...

Except that she really couldn't give a flying rats about the fact that she didn't leave us with a set of keys, every room also contained rubbish and old furniture and level of filth was just ... well, you wouldn't believe it if I told you.  

But after two trucks and some argy-bargy with the removalists, and seven hours of trying to stay calm, Mum and Milo and I finally sat down in the lounge at my old granny's wrought iron table and had a sushi dinner with bottles of water to wash it all down.

Then Milo and I came home, and he is asleep and I am here.  And that was the day that was.

I didn't mention the bit where Mum went ballistic at the movers for being slow and not packing the truck very efficiently.  Or the bit where we had to get a second van because there was too much stuff.

I left out the part where lovely lovely Beth came and brought sandwiches and strawberries for lunch AND kept me company in the car while I went off on a side adventure to pick up the movers' invoice book which they'd left at the storage facility where they collected our first 14 cubic metres.

I'm staying well away from the WC floor, which I hope is concrete under the adhesive tiles, 'cause tomorrow they will be gone.

And I forgot to include the bit where, when I mentioned to the agent that it's about time they took down the SOLD board, he told me he thought we wouldn't mind letting them keep it there for a bit longer for some exposure.  Are you kidding me?  It's been up for over 90 days.  FFS.

I think I said this morning I was on the verge of being delirious.  Well now I am.

Thank heaven for good family.  For friends.  And for Imigran.

And thank goodness the day is over.  Amen.