February 12, 2009
The Big Move
I wrote a week-and-a-half ago about the Big Move. Well, it happened. It wasn't easy, but it happened.
Day #1: I collected the van, a bit late. The girl at the van rental place ("Rent-A-Wreck", just next to the airport on Amager Strandvej) was on her own, a bit stressed, but nice. We filled in the prerequisite paperwork (she handled my elderly UK A4 format driver's license as delicately as the Mona Lisa when she photocopied it), I took some free sweeties and she showed the van. It was black, badly spraypainted over a kind of orange colour. She showed me how to work the temperamental rear door, advised me that I had to fill it up on return, and in I got.
I decided to go to the storage depot first, so I could get the room booked and all the paperwork out the way. On the way I noticed the fuel gauge was showing empty! So I called "Rent-A-Wreck" and spoke to the rental lady. She said it was more than likely that the gauge was broken, because she'd filled up the van for sure. So I restarted the van, and sure enough, the fuel tank needle shot up to the top, then kind of slid downwards despondently. I thanked her, and carried on to the storage depot.
In I drove, and talked to a nice chap about prices etc. Unfortunately my financial situation wasn't great, so I couldn't take advantage of their pay-for-three-months-up-front-get-one-free offer. We went through the paperwork (lots more than for hiring a van) and he told me in great depth what would happen to my stuff if I didn't pay the rent. Basically, after a period of time, they break in and sell it, cover the outstanding costs and presumably give you what's left, if they can find you. He showed me the room, gave me my lock and private entry code. I decided there and then not to go to Ikea - that had been the original plan, to buy a bunch of plastic boxes for the books - but instead to buy some new, smaller cardboard packing boxes. I got more of them, for less than the plastic boxes.
So, boxes loaded in the van, round to my ex's place. I went down to the basement and basically spent the next seven hours repacking the books into a slightly more logical and manageable order. Once the basement was empty, I stacked everything up ready to be moved (except the sideboard) and went upstairs. My ex had a wee hangover, so she couldn't help much. It took about another hour to pack and move everything that was inside the apartment into the van. I topped off the van with about two-thirds of the boxes from the basement and headed back to the storage depot.
Using my magic code, I opened the outer gate and backed in. Fortunately, they had a trolley, so unloading and stacking in the room was so very easy. Once the first load was done, it was back to my ex's place for the second and last load, then back to the depot for a second round of unloading and stacking. Then I took the van back home (with a few bits and pieces for my room), parked the empty van in a nearby side street, walked home and slept.
Day #2: Message from Brian, the guy who took over the lease on my old apartment, where the remainder of my stuff was stored: can we delay by an hour? Fine by me - so I got there around 11:00, and we spent the next hour doing a bucket-brigade of boxes from the attic down to the top stairs (Brian's apartment is on the 5th floor ...), and then trickling down each flight of stairs. Frequent cigarette breaks, then the van is packed with the first load, and to the storage depot we go. Then back for the second load, and back to the depot. It actually took about three hours for everything to be packe, moved, unpacked and stacked. Then the last, final item - the sideboard ... So back my ex's we go, and manhandle the damn thing into the van, and back to the depot for the fifth and final time! We part, agreeing that I should meet Brian in Charlies Bar and buy him a drink or two. So I drop the van back at the rental place, get the bus home, shower, change, eat and head for the bar.
Unbelievably, it got done. And so 95% of my possessions are now in safe storage. I didn't hurt after the first day, but the days after the second day I felt like I had run a marathon. But it was definitely something that had needed doing, and it got done. It got done.
February 11, 2009
The weirdness continues.
It appears we have a problem with our landlord. There have been various problems to do with aspects of the apartment, which have led to a battle of words between my two landladies and him. I won't go into details, because that would only complicate matters, but it essentially boils down to money. Doesn't it always? I ended up getting fed up with him sending email from his employer's email account (which happens to be a powerful - THE ultimate powerful, perhaps - bank in Denmark) so I emailed him there, being careful to cc the press office and HR department. I'm afraid now that it's done more harm than good, kinda stirring up the ants' nest sort of thing. He's threatened to evict us tomorrow evening (not because of my email). I wonder if that'll happen?
And another thing: I managed to get beaten up over the weekend, not badly, not too much blood, but it still hurts, and I have a big lump on my chin and a cut over my ear. I had been drinking vodka, unwisely, with a Russian, and apparently I became somewhat unpleasant. A scuffle/beating ensued. However, amends will be made, and no permanent damage either to me or the relationship between me and the Russian has been done, I think.
Is my judgement becoming increasingly impaired? I know I've always had a problem with impulse control, but has it gotten worse? Is that's what is getting me into these messes? Or is this just a run of bad luck beyond the pale? Will the rest of 2009 go smoothly? Will I have a home this time tomorrow night? So many questions to which the answers would be oh so useful now.
February 02, 2009
Bands with "Coil" in their name
This Mortal Coil
A list of words I like, for no apparent reason: