Monday, May 24, 2010

Teleporter Dreams

I dropped my Statement of Intent for the University of Colorado Denver in the mail today, which means...it's official — I'm moving to Denver.

While I've been all "SQUEEEEEE!" since the acceptance letter arrived, it didn't really become completely real until now. And, when I say real, I mean I hadn't really thought about the amount of SUCK involved in moving. It blows to move a few blocks down the street let alone 600 miles away. In fact, I think the last time I moved, I swore not to move again until teleporters were invented, but here I am moving again and do you see any mofoing teleporters around? Nope, not a one. I really need to learn to keep promises to myself.

So, in order to minimize the suckage, I started to do a little research on moving companies. I don't mind a couple of burley dudes manhandling my goods if it means I get to avoid bribing my friends, bulldozing over small children and elderly ladies with walkers by allowing myself to drive a giant truck across the state and becoming the cranky, sweaty bitch that decides it's a good idea to lift several heavy objects in the blistering heat of mid summer.

I'm not a rich woman, but I'm thinking, yeah, this will probably be more expensive than doing it myself, but not too much more expensive and totally worth the bullshit involved in the self-moving-rent-a-UHaul fiasco. However, I began to get calls back this morning with approximate estimates — one even had a guaranteed price — and I about shit myself. To load, drive and unload my tiny, shoebox bachelorette pad that mostly contains furniture that is about a step and a half above plywood and milk crates, will cost between 2,000 and 3,000 motherfucking dollars. Holy shit and jesus christ in a rowboat, do these bastards think I am made of money? Talk about taking advantage of the mega ultron amount of ball suckage involved in moving.

So, it looks like me, my mother and/or father and Andy the Jack Russell Terrier will be packing up my entire life in a rickety ass UHaul truck and barreling our asses down the highway like the fucking Beverly Hillbillies trying to avoid murdering the tumbleweeds and escaped cattle that cross our path. God help us...and anybody else who happens to be on Interstate-70 in Kansas or Colorado in mid to late July. It should be a grand 'ole time.

4 comments:

Heather said...

I feel for ya, I married into a family that moves every year. Yes you heard that right EVERY fucking year! I'm talking like three different households moving throughout the year. Of course due to guilt by assosiation and my husband being the only male of five children. WE get volunteered to 'help' (used losely seeing as how we do most of it and they 'help')

My advice, break something (ankles and wrists are always good and heal fast) its the only sure way to have someone else do the shit for ya!

kate said...

Woah, dude...two GRAND?? I thought we were getting screwed on the several-hundred-dollar-move-across-the-same-zip-code, but a few thousand is WAY worse. A cross-state drive with your parents in a U-Haul should make for some pretty hilarious stories, though :)

nova said...

Here's my plan for you: SELL EVERYTHING and buy new stuff when you get there. That's what I would maybe do, depending on if you have stuff you care about or not. I'd just have like a garbage bag of clothes and ten boxes of books left, I think.

Luna said...

omfg tell me about it. i hate moving too. i have had to do it so much in my life. usually when i have done it my family has had to do the same, rent a uhaul and help me. for my next move i do plan to hire people too but i know its pricey but i guess i can save money by just paying people to load and unload my stuff and i'll drive myself if i have to. after so many moves my family doesnt wanna help anymore. i dont blame them. after so many years of moving it can get tiring.

 

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