Dismantling my shabby chic chick pad has been hard on me. It’s where Opie and I started over, and where I discovered that I’m stronger and more capable than I’d ever imagined. It was a project that allowed me to choose the bones and to create a beautiful home from the ground up, on my terms. It’s been a refuge, a little piece of America in an often confusing and stressful place. There are no more curtains, pictures, and pretty chandeliers, but I’m ready to let it go. I’m relieved to hand over the keys in a few days, but at the same time, it’s hard to believe that I won’t live here anymore.
I like plans. I’d worked out a masterpiece of a low stress moving plan, including a mid-week massage and facial, and week off from work post-move to organize our shared household and ease into day to day living in our new arrangement.
Then reality got hold of it…
The bathroom renovation that was to be completed during the week we were in Lake Como, was derailed by water damage in the ceiling caused by our upstairs neighbors’ plumbing. Long story short, it took longer than it should have to go through insurance, etc. and the renovation work couldn’t start until last week.
Longer story short, the builders are behind schedule and as of last night, had not installed a single fixture, nor laid a single tile. Robert stayed at my place for most of the past week, expecting to return last evening to a nearly finished and usable bathroom, but didn’t.
To minimize stress for all involved, Opie needs to be moved before moving day, though not until after all of the construction is done, the timing of which right now is a big ol’ unknown. It’s an evening odyssey that will entail two and a half hours in the car, give or take, plus however long it takes to wrangle the little orange Houdini into his carrier.
Moving means that my radiator meters have to be read during business hours by someone who needs to come into my apartment to read them. Of course, the service-minded heating company won’t give me a date or timeframe until the day before they come, at which time I’ll have to reschedule any overlapping meetings or conference calls and arrange to be home during the holy meter reading window.
I’ve already been through this last month, and it’s not been cold enough to turn the radiators back on, so they’ll find the meters exactly as they left them! Plus they’ll probably bill me for the reading, plus 25% VAT because Danish companies don’t understand the concept of “cost of doing business.” I paid $6 ($5 + 25% VAT) the other month for a paper electric bill! WTH???
In a lame attempt to be helpful, they suggested hiding a key outside so the reader can let himself in. And while I’m at it, why don’t I just box up and clearly label all of my valuables? Sometimes I cannot believe how provincial this place can be!
And there will be no week off from work. Instead, I’m expected at an overnight team meeting. Of all the experiences I do not need next week, packing a suitcase and sleeping in a hotel is near the top of the list. I’ve been packing suitcases pretty much every weekend for the past year. Enough with the suitcases!
A few days later, Robert’s kids will arrive, then three days after that, they’re all off to England for a week, then back for another five days before Robert and I will have time on our own.
I was hoping to avoid baptism by fire. I wanted a nice slow transition from living alone to living together; from being steadfastly childfree to having to deal with two kids every other week.
After moving continents with a cat, I thought moving cities would be a cakewalk, but I’m feeling the pressure of the changes and uncertainties that are unraveling my plan. Freeing up time by replacing my spa appointment with wine would be the sensible thing to do here, but I need the massage more than I need wine!
|Chaos is inherent in all compounded things. Strive on with diligence.|
P.S. If you’re moving and decide to sell your bed, selling it 6 weeks before your move date is a bad idea. Seriously, what was I thinking? Between the pain of not having enough padding between me and the hardwood floor, and imagining spiders crawling on me, I haven’t slept a full night since my bed left the building, which truth be told is why this post is so crabby :)