Second
So, by the time we pulled into my building, with the exception of a few hours of sleep, and I hadn’t had any, the most anyone had gotten was 3 hours, we’d been up for 32 hours and had had a break to stop by Taco Bell. No one could eat. We saw the long night on the horizon and anxiety was the driving factor. We knew that if we sat for more than 10 minutes, we wouldn’t get up!
I’d never seen our loft other than video. We backed the truck up to a ramp that is long and turns twice before getting to the locked door of the elevator room. Then you get on the elevator, go to our floor and walk into our loft. That walk would soon turn into the Green Mile.
However, on the very first trip in.... my husband and YM’s boyfriend were carrying a heavy piece of furniture when the boyfriend’s hand got pinched between the wood and the granite countertop and BROKE two fingers, he dropped the furniture without warning my husband who then had his back twisted, dropped the furniture and broke three toes.
The husband couldn’t sit up in a sitting position let alone move any furniture, the boyfriend was rolling on the floor asking us to shoot him.
I didn’t know it at the time, but I had a double kidney infection and was septic... I just knew that I was feeling like death warmed over.... looking at the 16 year old boy( at the time) and the 21 year old YM. Lord, we are fucked.
The boyfriend gets his fingers wrapped and I boss everyone around... pillowcase of dishes? Kitchen! And I put them away etc.... I’m only putting minor stuff away because I am really feeling the sepsis at this point.....
The husband tries walking and helping and his eyes water from pain... that spreads like wildfire. The boy comes in the loft, lays on the floor of the only room with carpet, my bedroom, and loses it. He’s breaking down... in Comes YM... she’s crying, her boyfriend is red faced and trying not to cry and they are fighting.
I’m crying because I feel like I am dying, plot twist!!! I AM.
We smell like dead cats.
I brilliantly decide at 3:00am that I need to find a Walmart to get a shower curtain, bath mats, dish soap, you get it..... plus, we have no idea where our towels are and my weighted blanket just burst open in the moving truck and clear marbles and bouncing and rolling all over the area and into the parking garage.
I envision many serious accidents in the near future but go to Walmart anyway, by myself.
I literally zombie walk, sweating like race horse ( sepsis!!) through the store grabbing cleaning supplies, toothpaste, garbage can for the bathroom and pull off six towels from the end cap and as I grab the towels an old Indian man in a Walmart vest walks towards me and in a very slow motion and distorted sounding voice asks.....”Are you alr.......” and I say “ I think I’m gonna fai....”
I hit the floor, knees first, then manage to put my hands exactly where my face hit next. Boom.
Everything is black.
Just taking a nap. Nothing to see here. All black...
Until it isn’t and I wish I had died because now I’m horrified that I just fainted in Walmart and shit, did my knees and forehead hurt.
This man helps me up, I grab the shower curtain and cling to the towels as we need these things worse than those pussies on Survivor and he sets me down, gets my card from me, gets me water, pays for my things and I just want to get the fuck out.
I know that walking is not something that I’m going to be good at right now but I need to get to my car so he helps me and I fake good walking until I sit in my car and he loads up my stuff.
I wait and wait and wait.... nope. Driving is not an option (ps: I had no idea that literally across the street, like if my head was working, I would have seen the hospital I’d be admitted to shortly)
I try to get my husband to answer his phones. Nope. I call YM and when I hear her angelic voice I say (imagine a voice which is both whining and scared) HELP ME! I FUCKING FAINTED IN FUCKING WALMART and this nice Indian man took my card and bought my bathroom stuff and gave me water and helped me get to the car and.....
My husband gets on the phone....
Why aren’t you answering the fucking phone?! I fainted in fucking Walmart and this nice Indian man help get my card and....
You get the idea....
He came to get me and brought YM so she could drive my car.
9:30 am.... over fifty hours into this we devour a meat and cheese platter from Whole Foods, crackers, more water than humanly possible and yes, some chocolate.
The showers begin. Our mattress is on the bedroom floor. The entryway looks like a homeless site under a bridge. Boxes, pillowcases, garbage bags, 30 blankets..... just.... omg.
I take a shower at 11am.... at 11:30 I lay face first on the mattress, in a towel, no pillow and sleep for 12 hours.
Wanna know how many days it took us to dig into the pile at the entryway? The next weekend. We couldn’t even look in its direction. Flashbacks from the war. Bullets flying over our heads as we huddled in the rice paddies, pulling leaches off our leg, the screams of poor YM as she yelled... “ if I don’t get to take a shower next I’m cutting a bitch....” looking at us with her wild eyes.
So, that’s our moving in story. We laughed. We cried. We broke bones. We fainted and then we kept crying for a bit more.
Every single time I see a U-Haul now I feel sorry for those people!!
Gotta go, Luvs
I haven’t been able to paint lately. Soon though!
Tracy
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