The good news: our stuff got here. The bad news: it came a day early, directly from the airport, rather than through the moving company, who was, theoretically, to bring everything up to the apartment and place it where directed. What actually happened: I got to figure out how to get the metal straps off of two GIANT shipping crates (both roughly 5x5x5 feet) and then unload it all myself, then break down the boxes and stack them against the building wall along with the actual pallets they arrived on. It's not like we could leave those huge boxes, full of our stuff, in the middle of the parking level of our apartment building. (Which, by the way, is not secure at ALL, nor would it have been easy for cars to get around the stupid things.) It took about two hours, and my back is killing me, and the best part was that I gave myself a good knock on the head when unloading stuff from the elevator. Seriously, I put a small dent in my skull. (Don't worry, I'm fine. Just a big bump there now.) Not my favorite day ever. Poor Mike--in Senegal, getting ready to leave for the Gambia--got to listen to me have a complete breakdown over the phone while we tried to figure out what went wrong and what to do next. Then he had to rush back to his hotel room to call the moving company 'cause his phone stopped working from wherever he was. Then he had to call me back, then the moving company, and then me one more time.
In conclusion, I am going to take a LONG hot shower, then drink something bubbly, fix myself some dinner, and go to bed ASAP. And hope I can move in the morning, since it's laundry day and all. The hits just keep coming.
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