The Weekend From Hell
No kidding. This was the weekend from hell. Not only was the work tough, but Cristina and I were nastier with each other than we’ve been in several years.
Except for Thursday, when Cristina and I went to see Batman Begins, Cristina and I worked pretty late each night last week. Starting on Friday (17th), we entered a whole new realm. Everything had to be out of the house on Monday (20th) so that Sid’s Carpet Barn could install our newly purchased carpet, as well as the vinyl we’d picked out for the kitchen. This meant that we had to empty the garage of crap, unload the POD we loaded the previous two weekends for the painter (18+ hour days, if you’ll remember), and then reload both the POD and the garage with furniture.
Some of the stuff for the painters we could either shift around from room to room, or we could shove to the center of the room and let them cover it. Not for carpet and flooring installation. We couldn’t have anything on the floor at all. Yeah, we could’ve had the installers move stuff, but that cost a significant chunk of change, and they’d still be installing next week. So, we bit the bullet.
I took a load to the dump on Friday, and Cristina did an excellent job of cleaning out space in the garage. To be truthful, she had most of the garage space available late Thursday, but she continued to work in there on Friday. By Friday night, I had most of the POD empty, save for a couple of rows of books, which I moved the next day. Though, we swore to “go through some boxes” that evening, Cristina and I settled in, put our feet up, and watched four episodes from the first season of Farscape (Father’s Day gift). We both fell asleep almost instantly.
Then, came Saturday. By around one, both Cristina and I were frazzled and tired. So much stuff was going through our minds – not the least of which being that we had SO MUCH STUFF!!!! She and I had been quibbling for months over the stuff in the center of the garage, and Saturday it turned into a full-fledged fire fight, complete with stuff dredged up from past eons and fights long finished. Whoever it was that said that the stress of a move is on the par, or greater than, a divorce, must have moved once or twice.
Please don’t be shocked that I should be so open about our quarrels. I know there are a lot of couples that say they don’t fight (and I don’t mean physically), but on the whole I question the veracity of their claims or the depths at which they’ve buried some festering potential for disaster. Studies actually show that fights, or quarrels if you prefer, as long as they remain focused on the problem at hand, are indicative of a pretty healthy relationship. Cristina and I have a pretty healthy relationship. 😉
After about thirty minutes of going back and forth, she and I managed to come to a place of commonality, and we proceeded to take care of the middle section of the garage. Amazing what the two of us accomplish when we work together. Later that afternoon, our son, James, showed up with his girlfriend, and they helped us move some of the smaller big items (e.g., futons) out into the garage. We were still working, with a short break for dinner, when we finally decided to call it a night. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Sunday…back to the salt mines. Only this time we had to move all of the big pieces. The big pieces were easy. We moved them very quickly. Then, it was all of the little tiny crapola tucked behind this pair of boots in that closet. Auuuggghhhh!!!!! Round about midnight, we quit and decided we’d gotten to a point that we could finish up on Monday morning.
Monday…Monday sucked. We got everything moved, but not without a huge quarrel at the beginning of the day and an even larger one that night. We both have different ways of doing things and place different priorities on required tasks. Didn’t help that the job took over ten hours for the installers to complete…us stuck like homeless people in the backyard, trying to hang on to every little snippet of shade we could. Damn that Southern California sunshine!! 😉 Both of us felt filthy and grungy, wanted to be doing something else, and needed a few margaritas. I swear no shower has felt better in a long time than the one I took at 11:30pm Monday night.
There are still a few traces of this past weekend hanging on, but on the whole, things are much improved. We’re both still exhausted, but a small amount of the stress has been relieved…the last really big home improvement job is done. Now, we have to turn our attention to the smaller, (often) more time consuming details required to finish things up. That, and the actual move date is looming closer and closer. Saying goodbye to a place that has been home for a period of time spanning three decades, six decades for Cristina, is not without its own kind of stress. But, still, we trudge on…there’s a forest waiting…and deer…and fresh mountain air…and…
Copyright 2005 by Greg Hubbard