Holy Crap! I can’t believe I own that much junk

I have been moving for days. Mesotired.

I have been living alone (with Desert Dawg) in a small 2 bedroom apartment for the past 11 years. Just us. Nobody else’s junk – just ours. It never occurred to me how much stuff I have – and how very little I care about most of it. I think if I ever leave Kuwait, I'm not even going to bother trying to sell it - I'm just going to have people come in and scavange.

By the by, my shoes only took 2 large boxes. I consider that a major accomplishment. Desert Dawg’s toys took up only one medium-sized Prada duffle bag. Funny that - I kept a close watch on her bag and I can't find any of my own things. I don't want her to be traumatized without her toys.

I chose Global Freight Systems to move my stuff. They gave me a flat rate and a time estimate. I didn’t know all the details. Like, fer example how the timeframe might stretch just a little (like almost an extra entire day); or that they actually unpack and put the stuff together again. WAY COOL. Men with power tools!!!! They brought their own tools and ladders and everything – and they’re really fast. They sent a SWAT team of like 10 Indian and Egyptian guys – all of them in clean uniforms, shaven, not smoking and not smelly. In fact, several dudes wore really nice cologne. Go figure (is this Kuwait???). I am totally impressed. They have been so kind and friendly and courteous. They’ve been joking with me and seem to be having a good time. They must be well paid. I want to keep them. I have been buying them pizza to make them want to come back. Come baaaaack oompa loompa men!

The first night of the move, I stayed in the Holiday Inn in Salmiya. I didn’t know that they had expanded the hotel and it is now quite large. The room was really nice and they actually had a PILLOW MENU!!!. OMG! It was on an executive floor and there were noisy children (mini-executives?). I wouldn’t stay there again – I could hear every passing car on the Gulf Road and the door to the room was paper thin, so that you could hear anyone passing in the hall (and I’m purty sure they could hear my snoring too – not that I giveashit). Anyways, nice bath, comfortable bed, room service – must haves for moving night. I was out like a light at 7:30 pm (I do TOO have a life, but I was exhausted!).

I helped the movers. I did. I had a lot of stuff to do. My goal for this move was not to break a finger nail, but unfortunately, I’m not one of those sit-on-your-ass girlie girls who doesn’t help. I have 2 nails left. Poop. God only knows where my box of vitamins is. Folic acid and gelatine pills always help.

I NEVER wear flat shoes. Ok, sometimes when I am walking Desert Dawg, but mostly never. So, I couldn’t find my shoe boxes since I packed them on the 28th and I had to wear the same athletic shoes. I finally found my shoe box last night after a very long search and a whole lot of curse words. Today, my calves (is that right? It looks wrong.) are hurting like a sonofabitch. I’m walking funny and people in my office probably assume that I was having a FUN long weekend. Not so. I haven’t even been able to think about that kind of fun since I started my search months and months ago. No wonder I’m so evil.

Speaking of evil: I decided to give the man downstairs a bunch of cast-off stuff that I didn’t want; including my Whirlpool washer/dryer. Why? Because I love his kids. He’s a piece of doo-doo, but his kids have been so nice and so sweet. Plus, I see their poor maid out there all the time hanging clothes on a line (yes, formerly upscale building). I told him he could take a small table on the balcony after my other stuff was moved. The next day, he comes up to me and said, “You took your table. You said I could have it.” I’m like, “Dude, not the DINING ROOM table.” WTF. Give ‘em an inch…

Say THANK YOU, MOFO!!!!

I love our hariss, Khalid. Great guy. But, his brother is there now that the building is being demo’ed and Khalid is taking a vacation. So, I have only known bro-dude for all of 2 weeks and he gets all up in my face, “Why did you give HIM your washer/dryer?? I’m the HARISS!” What UP with people? He didn’t even take the trash out for the past month. Hariss my arse.

So the mover dudes are supposed to set up my stuff in the new place and my housekeeper is supposed to be helping them today (NO ONE is allowed to touch my underwear). I don’t know how that’s going to work. I can't take any more time off work. I might come home and things are in weird places. No problem. I can deal. I had my first shower at newplace this morning and it has kickass water pressure (unlike the trickle I had in the old place), and the AC rocks. I’m kindof unsettled by the fact that the villa owner wants to keep a key “to check on the apartment while you’re away”. Uh – is that legal? I’m (Bunny is) changing the locks. I am a very private person (at home in my real life – not on the blog).

Bunny is helping me with a lot of things. I bequeathed him my power drill years ago (as if I was ever going to use it – yeh!) so I keep asking him to come back and “help” me. More like, ‘Ok, you go over there and fix it and I’ll put my hands over my ears to block out the noise.’ Bunny understands. He knows the drill (ha ha – play on words – get it?)

Housewarming gifts anyone? (giggle)