This story starts out with a sheet of paper. A notice to show our apartment.
On Wednesday night said slip of paper had been shoved under our doorway. Now as our apartment was torn apart for that process known as “sorting”, which is a big part of that process known as “moving”. The biggest problem of all is that Kelly’s obedience class is every Wednesday and Saturday. On Wednesday it’s from 7 to 8:30 and just so happened to be on the far side of Hamilton, so with getting dinner we weren’t home until 9:30.
We were quintessentially fucked. Suffice it to say, to have a nice tidy apartment by 8:30AM on Thursday morning, we were cleaning until 2:30AM. We spent every second working at it, and basically just threw a lot of stuff into storage totes at random. At least the job got done. Although 4 hours of sleep doesn’t make for a very happy Englishman. I think by the afternoon I’d entered a mild state of delirium as I actually ceased being tired and went into that manic frame of mind, which lasted until I forced myself to go to bed at 10:30PM.
All of which was for 5-minutes of them being in our apartment.
Although the utter nuisance of apartment living is only illustrated by the fact that at 9:40PM last night someone decided to pull the fire alarm. I think we’re currently at 5 pulls in 10 and 1/2 months. I’m glad it happened at 9:40PM when I’m wide awake and don’t feel like a complete irresponsible ass by waiting it out. If it had happened at 1AM like usual, I would have ended up outside because I’m not going to be able to react at the first sign of smoke when I have my head under a pillow shouting ‘laa-laa-laa’.
So that’s just another story of why you don’t move into an apartment.
