Moving Day(s)

It's been awhile, hasn't it?

Moving is a lot of work, as it turns out.  Thank goodness for my terrific friends and family.  I don't know what I could've done without them.

On Friday night, Ashley suggested that we go ahead and clean the floors and counters in my new house and move over all of my kitchen things to get them unpacked.   It seemed like a reasonable idea.  We met at the new house and made a list of things (cleaning supplies, mostly) that I needed to buy.

I headed off to Wal-Mart to get said supplies while my friends went to my apartment to start loading things up.  I was gone for maybe thirty minutes, and by the time I got back to my apartment, they had loaded up ALL of my boxes... not just the kitchen ones.  Also, they had loaded up clothing and knick-knacks.  My apartment was nearly empty.

This was my armada of movers:

Here we are, unpacking the kitchen things.

Keith kept Harper entertained.

So did Jeff...

Ashley and I did the cleaning and unpacking

While Harper played with the newspaper

And Kelli and Keith just hung out.

By the end of the evening, we were pooped.

On Saturday, my official moving day, I met my movers across town to pick up a washer and dryer that I purchased from an elderly gentleman who was moving.  After a minor mix-up, we were back at my apartment loading up the moving van.

The rest of that day is kind of a blur, but what I remember most is how amazing my friends were.  While the moving truck unloaded my things, I stayed at the new house to start unpacking and rearranging.  During that time, Ashley and Amber went back to my apartment to get all the random extras that weren't packed yet.

The only picture I have from that day is this one:

It's Jeremy hooking up my washer and dryer.  He did an awesome job!

When I got back to my apartment at the end of the day to do some final clean-up, it looked like this:

My old living room.

My old kitchen.

My old bedroom.

It felt really strange to be there without any of my stuff.  The last time my apartment was empty, I viewed it as a place of promise... the first place of my own.  Now, it seems like such a dump.  It really was a nice apartment, but compared to my brand-new house, it doesn't even compare.

It wasn't until I saw the place like this that I truly became excited for my house.

And so, I walked out of Apartment #105 for the last time...

And I haven't looked back since.

Falling Into Place

Some people think that the lady that lives below me is a little bit crazy.

I think she might have saved me.

On Thursday of last week, the lady that lives below me was outside with her dog when I took Harper for a walk.  She suggested that Ashley (her dog) and Harper could play together this Spring.  I told her that it was a great idea, but that we had to move because Harper was too young to live there.  She was very disappointed and said that she was sad to have to see me go.

In the letter that my apartment manager sent me, it said I needed to be moved out by March 23rd.  Since the builder of my house foreclosed on it, the house is currently owned by Citibank.  I submitted paperwork with my realtor to request to move into my house three weeks before closing and pay them a per-day fee.  Then, I just had to wait.

Coincidentally, last week, I was reading my assignment for my grad class.  Our book is Hal Urban's Choices that Change Lives.  Two of the chapters that were assigned to us were "Prayer" and "Scripture."  In the chapter about prayer, Urban talked about the different answers God has to our prayers.  They are:  "yes," "no," "be patient," and "I have something better in store for you."

Even though my timeline for moving was getting shorter and shorter, I remained surprisingly calm.  I just kept keeping in mind what I had read about being patient.  Admittedly, I sometimes have a hard time trusting that things will work out how they are supposed to.  I should have been stressed having only twelve days to find a temporary place in which to move for a three-week period.  But, I was patient.

On Friday (March 11th), twelve days before I was supposed to move out of my apartment, I received an e-mail saying that Citibank has a strict policy against letting people move into their home before official closing.

Dang it.  This was the option that I was really hoping for.  I could use my Spring Break to move, which would prevent me having to take time off from work.  I wouldn't have to move my things into storage, I wouldn't have to inconvenience friends or family by moving in and imposing upon their lives.

But, the answer was a firm "no."

Patience is what I kept reminding myself of.

Within a few hours, I received an e-mail from my apartment asking me how much additional time I needed.  This was after several attempts to contact them and request an extension.  I replied with a request to stay until April 12th (only two days after my closing date), and within minutes I had a response saying that I could stay.

Hallelujah!

I couldn't believe it!  Why had it taken them this long to respond?  Why the change of heart all of a sudden?


Well, on my way out the door on Saturday morning, the lady who lives below me came out in her nightgown to tell me that she had gone to talk to the management for me.  She said that she told them that their puppy rule was ridiculous and that it was rude of them to kick a young teacher out of her apartment with nowhere to go.  I thanked her, and I told her that I thought she was the reason I was getting to stay.

I think I shall bake this woman an abundance of food before I leave.  And maybe buy her some flowers.  Any other ideas on how I can thank her?

So, the lessons learned (or, rather, reiterated) are:
-Be nice to your neighbors.  You never know when you might need them to yell at management for you.
-Be patient.  God is in control.

Amen.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart
   and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
   and he will make your paths straight.

~ Proverbs 3:5-6 ~

On Living Alone

It is the best.

About a month ago, on the one-year anniversary of my college graduation, I talked to my college best friend/former roomate.  We had the conversation that started with, "Remember where we were a year ago today...?"

I remember it vividly.  I was an RA living in Burr.  She was a resident living in Fedde.  She had moved all of her things out of her room save an air mattress and a change of clothes.  I hadn't yet started packing up my room.  After all, I'm the RA, and I get to move out whenever I darn well please.  Neither of us even wanted to participate in our graduation ceremony, but we merely did it to appease our parents who had waited all 21 years of our lives for this day.  We went out for McDonald's breakfast (classy, right?).  We rode to the Devaney Center together.  We took a few wrong turns on the way there.  We couldn't sit together because we had attended different colleges.  We talked on the phone through parts of the ceremony.  I have no idea who the honored speaker was, but I do remember using my time to catch up with several people with whom I had interacted throughout college.  Also, I talked on the phone with my brother who was seated somewhere up in the arena.  A boring four hours of my life that I will never get back.

 Leaving the Devaney Center, right after we graduated!

Anyway, I remember after the ceremony when we both returned to our dorms, Elie agreed to stick around a while longer before moving back to Omaha to live with her parents.  What was a girl to do in this jobless economy?  I remember thinking, when Elie left me for the night, "What am I going to do without dozens of people at my immediate disposal?"  I remember thinking that I would be sad, lonely, and bored.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

Living alone is amazing.  So amazing that I have vowed never to get married or have children of my own, simply because I am not willing to share my living space with anyone.  Ever.

Yesterday, for example, I slept in until 10:00.  I didn't make my bed (and I always make my bed).  I didn't even bother to change out of my pajamas.  I made chocolate chip pancakes for brunch.  And I didn't do the dishes (and I always do the dishes).  I sat outside on my balcony and read for a few hours.  And then I came inside and took a nap for a few hours (and I never take naps).  I played music on my iHome throughout the day.  I made chocolate chip cookies and drank milk straight from the carton.  It was a great day.

When I had roommates, though, this lifestyle would not have been possible.  When I had roommates, it was my job to be the responsible and tidy one (because God knows none of the other ones were willing and able to do the job).  I swear, I don't think one of my roommates (who shall remain nameless) even knew where to take the trash or recycling.  Thankfully, I shared a bathroom with Elie (the cleanest of the three).  UNL provided for us a cleaning lady that came once every other week, and even she refused to clean up the mess that was the bathroom of the other two roommates.  I tried my very best to maintain order in the apartment and to stay out of the way of everyone else's day.  "Oh, you're having friends over?  Don't worry, I'll clean up the apartment.  And don't worry about me getting in your way, I'll go out to run errands or something."

These were my roommates, Mindi, Elie, and Krissy.

 This is the kind of mess we used to create.  In the above picture, we thought it would be a good idea to build a fort.

And when I was an RA, there was absolutely no time to myself.  My "free time" was filled with staff meetings and planning social events and making rounds.  When I wasn't "on duty," young residents were constantly in and out of my room.  "Can you help me with my class schedule?"  "I don't understand my statistics homework.  Can you help me?"  "My boyfriend just broke up with me..."  "I made a big mistake, and I need to talk to someone..."

 I had to plan ridiculous programs like this one, Workout Wednesday.

I would often return to find pictures like these drawn on my white board.

I was rarely left alone.

I wouldn't take that lifestyle back if you paid me to. 

Being by myself is the best.  I can come and go as I please.  I can keep my apartment clean and tidy, and nobody is here to mess it up.  Or, on the day(s) when I decide to not immediately put my dishes in the dishwasher, there is nobody here to complain about it.  And when I want to sit down and enjoy a good book, there is nobody around who feels like they may knock on my door as they please... nobody around who feels entitled to my time. 

Pearl S. Buck once said, “The person who tries to live alone will not succeed as a human being."  With all due respect, Ms. Buck, I couldn't disagree with you more.