Refugee Moving

The best-laid schemes of mice and men.

I’m readying to move. Got the new house. Packing up the old house. I rented the new place a month in advance so I wouldn’t have to refugee move.

I said that on a call this week and one of my coworkers asked what a refugee move was. It’s called packing whatever crap you can carry and fleeing to the new place. My rough schedule here was get a truck and move the garage and spare bedroom. That was last week. This weekend, the movers come. My plans were then to come back Christmas week to clean up and move odds and ends I didn’t get to, like the motorcycle.

Well. The landlord is retiring, and a new manager is taking over. He wanted to introduce me to the new guy, so they came over. Didn’t take long to have the two Chinese dudes walking around the place, gibbering, and pointing at the sorry state of the walls and ceilings.

So the old guy asks if they can start working on the place while I’m here. I told him, fine. I won’t be here, I’m mostly moving this weekend.

More gibbering. (To be fair, Old Boy apologized for their private conversation, explaining it’s easier for them to communicate that way. I was good with it)

So at the end of the day, there’s good and bad.

The Bad: I got to be moved out this weekend. Whatever I stuff is left, I can put in the garage to pick up later (since I have the code to open it). I also have to come back here Sunday to do a quick walkthrough and give my keys up.

The Good: I don’t have to clean up. Old boy is giving me a check for my security and pet deposits – That’s nearly $2700. And the stuff I’d leave is mostly gardening pots and miscellaneous hardware and chemicals.

But – there is no way my Kawasaki stays here. That, I’ll have to move ASAP.

But in the end it’ll work out. Aria’s foster was thrilled to be able to have her and Winston for the weekend. So I can come fetch them after the walkthrough.

Going to be a crazy weekend.