Moving the Girl

After graduation, the daughter moved back in with us while she looked for a full time job.  She kept her dog walking business up and going, found a paid internship, and got some hours at a local big box store that she had worked at since she graduated from high school.  (You know the one.  You can't wear a red shirt in there without being asked to help someone find something.)

She found a job in November 2019 and has been working there ever since.  Problem is, the job was in Washington DC, and we live in the hinterlands, well over 2 hours away.  She commuted using our car through November and December at which point she had saved enough money to put a decent down payment on a car and a security deposit on an apartment. 

They found an apartment closer into Washington and moved in over Martin Luther King Jr. Weekend in 2020. 

But let me tell you about moving day.  She and her roommate found a beautiful apartment.  Lots of light, sunny, and enough space for them to spread out and each have their own privacy.  It was on the top floor - the 4th floor - of a walk up.

Moving day came, and we brought the UHaul over to the house.  Her roommate had loaded it first, and we had some space left to put her things in the back. And then we filled the back  of the CRV.  And then the back of her Sedan.

But wait, there's more.  Her grandmother (my MIL) wanted to give her furniture from her condo as she was downsizing to a senior living apartment.  She had a bunch of heavy solid wood furniture that she gifted to daughter.  No way on earth were we moving that, so we hired professional movers to take care of that.  

75 stairs.  That is the number of stairs up to the 4th floor.  And I walked them, a lot.  She and her roommate, the Dads and brothers helped us move everything upstairs.  My pedometer told me that I walked 5 miles that day.  It was a lot of steps.  We moved everything into the living room, and shoved it all to one side.  We returned the U-Haul about 20 minutes before the movers showed up.  Now here's the fun part.  Daughter took the loft area of their apartment to be her bedroom.  There's no door, and it's open to the living room.  Her roommate took the master bedroom on the first floor.

The movers arrive and then haul this very heavy solid wood furniture up 4 flights of stairs - and then once they maneuver into the apartment, find that they have to move it up one more, much narrower flight to the top of the loft.  I give them credit, they were professional and cheerful where I would have been cursing like a sailor.  (Wait, I was cursing like a sailor earlier in the morning as I helped move all of those boxes and assorted crap up the stairs.)

Our move began at 8 am, and all of the parents and assorted siblings left at 3 pm.  I heard they ordered take out pizza for dinner Saturday night.  The parents all shook hands in the parking lot and vowed NOT to help them move out when their lease was up!  Husband and I stopped for carryout on the way home and then crashed.  It was a long, tiring, exhausting day. It reminded us that we are not 25 anymore!

The view of all the assorted junk shoved to one side.