#inmotion, Part Zwei: Well That Didn’t Go As Planned…

I’ve been missing for a few weeks.  It’s been a hell of a last few weeks.  Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

On March 22nd, the day before the move, my roommate got a call from our apartment complex notifying us that our new apartment was not yet fit for occupation and needed a detailed inspection blah blah I didn’t care because shit just got a lot more complicated and seconds after receiving bad news, I automatically start frantically figuring out backup plans.  Since I was on the clock at my old apartment, there was no way to delay my move; I instead opted to temporarily rent a one-bed apartment in the same complex as the new one for a week (or so) until we could move into our two-bed place permanently.  I guess that would work.


March 23rd:  That was the day.  I got up early, watched the sunrise right down 10th Street downtown (equinox, bitches!), grabbed some breakfast and finished packing.  Then I went to pick up the trailer which I had reserved earlier in the week.  All of the paperwork was in order, so they hooked it up and off I went… Or so I should have.  The lights in the trailer weren’t working with my car.  Fifteen minutes of trying and they determined my car is the problem.  Great.  People were coming over to my place in half an hour.  I frantically whizzed around town looking for a garage to look at my light connection.  Turns out, NOBODY does electrical work.  Bugger.  I finally found a place that sells replacement trailer adapters, but they were booked solid for hours.  With little hope left, I drove over to the nearby storage center, where I returned the trailer from my cross-country move, to see if they had any trucks available (a long shot).  They did.  My relief was palpable.  I ditched my car there and drove my rented rig back to the apartment.  Not long after that, my comrades arrived and we cleaned the place out in barely 45 minutes.  Things were looking up.  I took the long scenic route around freeway traffic through Livermore to my new home, because I didn’t know my way around yet, and after an hour we were there and ready to unload.

Or so we thought… again.  As it turns out, the temporary place wasn’t going to work because… well I don’t remember why.  Leasing complications or something.  So we waited for another half hour in the leasing office before eventually being given, wait for it, another temporary apartment!  Okay then.  Finally, the six of us there saunter over to this new apartment, open up the truck, lug everything up three flights of stairs to the top, and go on our merry way.  This may come as a shock, but moving things to the third floor is exhausting.  Having to do it twice in one day?  Fatiguing.  Yes, twice.  Once the truck was empty, I took it around the block to my roommate’s old place, where we grabbed the big stuff and repeated the previous exercise.  Being bound by a strict schedule, I ducked out early with the empty truck and headed back to Tracy to retrieve my car, little things still left in my apartment, and dinner.  I made it back to the storage center two minutes after closing to return the keys, but they were basically still open.  I was that guy.

So already long story short(er), I ate, packed again, and rushed back to Pleasanton where we were already late for the Major League Soccer game we had tickets to.  Seattle Sounders vs. San Jose Earthquakes!  My first MLS game!  It was cold.  I was tired.  I knew nobody on either roster.  There was a total of one goal.  It was still a blast.  I was happy just to be sitting for two hours.  After the game we decided to go out in downtown San Jose.  I would have preferred to collapse on my bed, but a soft couch in a dim hookah lounge was relaxing enough.  Upon returning to my new temporary home, I did so.

Releasing the blue smoke.
Releasing the blue smoke.

Living in a temporary apartment is weird.  I ate out every day, wore more or less the same clothes every day, and spent a good chunk of my time outside of the apartment.  In those first five days, I explored my new town (which is beautiful, by the way), got to know the local establishments and watering holes, and planned my frequenting spots.  I found a new pizza place for my weekly slices, and it wasn’t so bad.  I ate a nice meal at an upscale Italian restaurant and paid way too much, but it was worth it after a bad day at work.  Things were going pleasantly in my new town.

And then on March 28th we received news that our apartment was available to move into.  After a short consult, my roommate and I decided we would rather hire movers to do the heavy lifting than redo the six flight up-and-down torture of the previous weekend.  Our apartment complex gave us a hefty credit for our troubles, so these services would basically be compensated for.  Hooray!  That day, March 30th, came a week late but things worked out well. We limited the movers to only three hours for monetary purposes, so we had to move a lot of the smaller stuff ourselves.  It was actually a lot more work than the first move, given that we had half of the man-power.  Once we finished I was again exhausted and collapsed into my bed… oh wait, nope, I had tickets to that night’s Coyotes/Sharks game in San Jose!  This was supposed to be the weekend after I settled, not the day of the move.  Stupid changes of plans.  The game was a lot of fun though.  As before I was one of only a handful of ‘Yotes fans in attendance, and as such I was the source of much entertainment for those seated around me, including an hilarious snarky five-year old.  Unfortunately, the Coyotes lost this time; my record at HP Pavilion fell to 4-1-1, a record now including a Predators/Sharks game I went to in February where I was *gasp* rooting for the Sharks.

The following day, which just happened to be Easter, March 31st, was the day I went ahead and setup my room.  My roommate was AWOL so I left the common rooms packed in boxes.  My room’s configuration is bitchin’, and I am quite proud of myself.  Tired once again from a day of housework, I settled in with pizza slices from my new pizza place for the finale of The Walking Dead and the premiere of Game of Thrones!  The Walking Dead was okay, but not good enough to be a finale for such a terrific season.  Game of Thrones was fantastic as usual and is doing a wonderful job of setting up the chaos to come. (No spoilers here)  I went to bed satisfied.

*brakes screeching*

*klaxons blaring*

*gears grinding to a halt*

*clichéd sudden stopping and alarm noises*

I woke up at midnight, sat up in my bed, and proceeded to violently throw up all over the strategically placed pizza box on my floor.  Not good.  I ran to the bathroom where it continued for a few minutes before I collected myself and shifted into damage control mode.  I collected my refuse, ran it to the garbage can, grabbed my bottle of carpet cleaner and went to work.  Twenty minutes later and things were more-or-less cleaned up so I went back to bed, thinking the worst was over.  Forty minutes after that I jolted awake, eyes wide, and ran to the bathroom before I ruined my floor again.  This was real bad.  Apparently I hadn’t gotten everything out on the first go.  My insides were turning to liquid.  I took a shot of Pepto-Bismol to suppress my distress, but it promptly returned from whence it came.  Resigned, I grabbed a blanket and some towels and went tried to sleep on the cold bathroom floor.  I awoke every twenty minutes, hunched over the bowl and did my thing, over and over, ad nauseam.

I was betrayed.

At about 3am, freezing cold and now severely dehydrated, I made the decision to drive myself to the hospital, conveniently located across the street.  It was one of the better decisions I’ve ever made.  I stumbled through the entryway, wandering the halls like a zombie looking for anyone who could help.  Eventually I found a nurses’ station and they brought me, rapidly losing lucidity, into the ER where I continued to heave into buckets whilst being admitted.  Once setup in a room, I was given an IV drip of anti-nausea medication and whatever they use to re-hydrate my systems.  It was uncomfortable, but I somehow managed to sleep, thoughts of coming relief on my mind.  About three hours later, I was discharged completely exhausted and weak, stomach more empty than it had ever been.  I made it back to my bed and “slept” all day, not a thought of food on my mind.  The apartment remained packed, and over the next few days I was overcome by an uneasiness there, as if my new life, barely one day in, had been permanently tainted by this disaster.

April Fools’!  Just to be clear, all of this did indeed happen.  It just happened to be April Fools’ Day.  I slept through it and all of its myriad internet pranks.  God dammit!

Last week there were doom clouds hovering over me:  being emotionally and physically unsettled in that a lot of my stuff was still packed, I was overtaken by illness and physical distress, I had a complete lack of routine, as well as numerous annoyances at work, and finally, there were literal dark rain clouds looming in the valley.  However, after a restful, productive weekend, things are once again looking up and returning to some kind of normal.  Aside from a cold I developed after my horrible bout with food poisoning (hospital flu perhaps?) I’m back to nearly full health.  My roommate and I finally began to settle on Saturday, and the apartment is probably 80% done now.  Almost time for a housewarming party!

D-Bone testing out our new Book Nook™.
D-Bone testing out our new Book Nook™.

When I decided to move in January, I never imagined the process would unfold like this.  Hell, moving across the country seemed easier than this.  Nevertheless, I maintain that it was the right thing to do and once again, I look forward to starting my new life in my new town.

Pleasanton, here I… am?

One thought on “#inmotion, Part Zwei: Well That Didn’t Go As Planned…”

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