Travel rehash

Well, I'm here. Home.

Actually, I'm here, home and awake -- air mattresses, as I have quickly come to find out, are only a couple of degrees better than sleeping on the ground. I've made mine as posh as possible (new, pink jersey sheets; new, pink fleece throw; my two pillows and body pillow from home ...), but it's just not comparable to a mattress.

Ah, I hear a dog at the dog park across the lawn! Cool!

The cats have done their best getting here and situated. I'm going to visit them in their "safe room" as soon as I finish typing this. I drove to Charleston over two days -- leaving Thursday night, arriving early Friday afternoon so I could sign papers. Paul left early Friday morning with the cats in tow, and I think he was serenaded most of the way here. He's a good sport though.

The moving company, which originally said our furniture would be here Tuesday, is now saying Monday. They've waffled on dates so much that I'm not going to believe it until the moving truck is here ... and maybe not even then, just to be on the safe side.

Despite my frustration with the moving company, the three movers who did the hard work were extremely helpful and friendly. They didn't even balk too much when they found out their dispatcher -- again, demonstrating a lack of communication -- didn't tell them they were scheduled to pack our breakable items, which pretty much doubled the length of time they were at our house.

They didn't take their frustration out on us, but they did have to call another employee to bring them packing materials. (Hello, guys, you know the newsprint in which you're wrapping my demitasse cups? Yeah, I've got four rolls of it over there. I work at a newspaper. I have lots of extra newsprint.) Anyway, the extra employee arrived while I was upstairs at my computer desk, and I caught him just wandering around the house aimlessly. (Why? You're not doing any work here. Weren't you just leaving ...)

We'd closed Fred and Joe in a room at the end of the hallway so they wouldn't have to deal with scary people they didn't know. I saw the guy approaching that door, and yelled out, "Hey, don't open that door at the end of the hallway!" to which he replied, "This door?" In .002 seconds, Joe was barreling down the hallway, down the stairs, screeching because there were strangers in the house and no furniture under which to hide.

"Yes, that door."

The only thing left in our bedroom was the bed, so Joe ran underneath and wedged herself in a hole in the box springs. We weren't moving the box springs (Mom and Dad bought us new ones! Yay!) so I slowly ripped the bottom off until she tumbled out. Paul caught her and we put her in a harness. Getting her back upstairs, past the moving guys (strangers = scary) was another ordeal, and Paul has the war wounds to prove it. She tore huge gashes in his arm, hand, shoulder and back. The one on his arm bled a lot, so he spent the rest of the day in a bloody shirt and jeans. I can't make this stuff up.

Anyway, long story short(er), we're here, the cats are here, the furniture is not here, and we've got a whole weekend ahead of us to wander around as we see fit. I know another trip to a big box is in order; I bought $150 worth of household goodies (kitchen trash can, shower curtains, etc.) yesterday, but I've already started a list of things we need to get today.

If you've made it this far, congratulations. Come visit me on the beach. :-)