We moved to Chicago on Tuesday. It was the longest day of my life, and definitely one of the worst.
We awoke at 3:30 AM in order to get to the city in time for the movers. We had packed up the 26-foot-long U-Haul the day before, so we just gathered a few last minute things, packed up, and left. It was kind of sad, leaving Megan’s parents and their wonderful home and company, but it also reminded me of leaving my home to go to college in Missouri, all of my possessions packed into my Nissan X-Terra.
The drive took an hour or two longer than it should have, since pushing that thing past 65 mph made me feel like I’d fly off the road in several tons of steel and various possessions. So, after a 7 or 8 hour drive, we drove through the streets of Chicago very carefully…until I hit a car.
It was a tiny street with cars parked on both sides that turned into a very narrow alley, and no one was in the car and I only broke a taillight. But I felt like I wanted to die. I’m a pretty good driver, and I made it all the way there without any accident, and as soon as I was turning into where I would finally park that beast, I hit a car. I was in a funk for several hours.
Put a pin in that.
We were supposed to be the only people moving in, which would allow us to have exclusive use of the elevator. And it was only supposed to rain for an hour. It rained all day and the other people moving in had exclusive use of the elevator until they passed it to us. So we moved things the old-fashioned way…up to the 4th floor. For hours. Ourselves. Because our movers didn’t show up and no one at their office would pick up the phone.
I eventually got through, and the lady said we’d reschedule for 4 PM. They didn’t show up then, either. When I finally got through after hours of calling on and off, a guy picked up and said he was very sorry, that they screwed up and that they’d be there right away. They weren’t. Their name is Dependable Moving Co., they’re in Chicago and they are certainly NOT dependable.
Luckily, an ex-Marine bum, a goth-looking and self-proclaimed bohemian kid/guy and a really talkative but nice dude from Virginia helped us move, welcomed us and gave us advice the whole day. Megan’s friend, Eric, also came as soon as he could, and helped us move in the last huge things.
We moved for ten hours in the rain, and we both ended the day bloodied, bruised and exhausted. Before my fantastic mom sent us pizzas, soda, cinnamon sticks and breadsticks, I had only half of a bag of Combos yo eat all day.
The next day, I was a wreck. Not only did we have to move the car at 6 AM because parking in our neighborhood is ridiculous, but I was terrified of driving that huge moving truck again. Like, so scared, I felt sick. Long story short, I got it back to where it needed to go (across town) without another scratch. And yesterday I heard that I didn’t have to pay anything for the damages. I felt like…I don’t know, like I didn’t do my homework and my teacher gave me an “A” anyway because she liked my style.
But I hated Chicago on day one. Since then, I’ve loved it. We’re a street down from great restaurants, and a few blocks away from a Trader Joe’s, an Urban Outfitters and a Best Buy. But far enough away that we can sleep without hearing much city noise. And we’re in one of the safest parts of the city. Plus, my bus picks me up a block or two from the apartment and drops me off at the front door of my building.
So, today, we are finishing up unpacking and getting the apartment in order, with the exception of a few boxes of entertainment or other various items that we just don’t have room for. It’s been days of this, but things finally seem to be coming together, and I can’t wait to start work on Monday!
More to come soon, I’m sure.