It's July 23rd, and I'm sitting at a cafe writing this blog. In Seattle. Still in fucking Seattle.

In Seattle.

Still in fucking Seattle.

This was not the plan. The plan was to have my place fully moved out on July 17th. This plan had a U-HAUL storage pod being delivered to my place on the 16th. But, you know, life fucks you...

Let The Fuckings Commence

Fuck Me Once

The elevator in my building broke. This happened on June 25th. In the three years I've lived here, the elevator has broken down several times. Each time, it was up and running within 3 or 4 days. So, as you can imagine, when it broke on June 25th, I wasn't overly worried about my July move out.

July 10th, I send my landlord (I'm renting a private condo in a private building) a text, telling him it's been 2 weeks already and I'm getting a bit worried.

July 13th, I send another text, telling him there still hasn't been any further communication from the building management company and I needed a working elevator to move out. He says he'll look into it. I hear nothing back.

July 16th, I cancel the U-HAUL POD delivery. Cue: fumes.

July 18th, I send an email to my clearly-useless landlord. I tell him I'm not going to be cleaning the unit on exit without a working elevator. I tell him I'm expecting him to pay for my movers. And I inform that he's now in violation of Seattle's rental laws by not repairing within a mandatory 10 days.

A very testy phone call ensues. Landlord suggests I should be nicer. I tell landlord I'm not giving the keys back, not moving out, and he can fuck himself. The conversation continues along similarly positive paths.

Fuck Me Twice

Right, so I'm fucked. Got it.

Movers are quoting me $600-900 as minimum costs. My entire set of IKEA furniture is less than $600. I'm thinking it's not worth getting movers... and as much fun as it was to threaten my cunt of a landlord, I don't have the time, energy or money to take him to court in Seattle after I move halfway across the country. So, it becomes hard to justify payiing for movers just for a few boxes.

That said... I am on the 5th floor. Moving out without an elevator is going to be hell, yes, but it is what is it.

Fuck me.

So I get the UHAUL rescheduled for, well, tomorrow. July 24th. Here we go...

I have a POD scheduled to be delivered on the 23rd and then picked up on the 24th. The intention is to spend the 24th getting it packed and then having it picked up by the end of day. This way, my stuff is never left overnight in the storage pod parked against the curb. Why is this important? Because I live in Seattle, and Seattle is swarming with human trash and they will break-in overnight.

Well, sure enough, last Friday, the 19th, I get a call from UHAUL to work out the scheduling and delivery logistics. I explain that I don't care when they drop it off on the 23rd, but I need a late pick-up on the 24th.

"The delivery and pick-up window is from 8-5", the UHAUL ass explains to me. Long-story-short, I end up talking with a supervisor, explaining my story, explaining that the corporate UHAUL office (the logistics folks are very local) was clear that I could ask for a late pick-up. I also explain that I can't leave my shit out overnight for the reasons explained above.

The response, was a snappy, overly-short, "The delivery and pick-up window is from 8-5". Fuck them, but I this isn't the war to wage... at least not right now. OK dickhead, I have a NINE FUCKING HOUR window. Great, that means the worst-case scenario is that these douchebags will pick up the box at 8am.

It'll suck, but it's another week away. The elevator will for sure be working by then. I'll have to wake up at like 3 or 4 in the fucking morning and pack like I'm on cocaine, but I can do it.

Fuck Me Thrice

Fuckings aside, time's a tickin'. I must go.

So here we are, the last weekend before the move (not the weekends really matter when you don't work). I'm packing the condo. Walking downstairs for the millionth time, I'm carrying some trash to dumpster room. Stairs, turn, stairs, turn, stairs, turn, *tweak*.

Stop.

"Hmmmm... was that my back?" I think as I give a little shimmy, followed by a little shake. "I'm OK", I think, finishing the walk down the stairs.

By the end of that day, my little back tweak has turned into some sincere pain. Fuck. Am I sore, or did I really hurt something? 🙁 Fuck. I mean, something feels... well... fucked. But I can't tell if it's fucked fucked, or grab-an-ice-pack fucked. This was Sunday.

Yesterday, Monday, I took it reeeeal easy. I also went and bought a back support brace... arguably one I should've bought before I fucked my back... but I am hoping some support not will help. I felt better in the morning compared to the evening before, but still, it feeling more injured than sore. 🙁

Before yesterday's 2pm cutoff, I decide to call it. Between UHAUL's bullshit 8-hour window (forcing me to rush), the broken elevator, and now my fucking back, trying to get the storage pod packed in 4 hours is feeling impossible (though trivial if I had an elevator and my back wasn't shit). So I canceled the delivery. 😢

Limping Forward

Umm... OK. So now, yeah, take three I guess?

I think the storage pod delivery is becoming too difficult. In addition to the bullshit above, I have to apply and pay for a permit from the city for the storage pod, and get a second (albeit free) permit for the parking space. And the permit folks took 2.5 weeks to reply the first time, so I'm not keen on trying that again.

Instead, I'm going to have the storage pod delivered to a local UHAUL storage place. Then I'm going to rent a UHAUL truck, pack it at my condo, drive it to the storage place, and then unpack the truck and pack the storage pod. 😐 I mean, fuck me!, right??

As for my back? I've been popping a mix of Tylenol and Advil while wearing this fucking back brace. I've also been laying down a lot. But yeah, I'm hoping it's going to continue to feel better, and be usable in time.

And the elevator? I've given up on that. This is going to be a shit show.

I'm going to aim for this Friday, I think. I haven't scheduled anything because I wanted to see how my back felt this morning. It's still inconclusive so I figured I'd wait until the week's end. I'm hoping by the end of the week, my back will feel strong enough for me to get this shit done. If not, I'll probably just break down and pay for some movers. Either way though, without a working elevator, I plan on leaving quite a bit behind. Nothing critical, but definitely my furniture and a few things I can go without.

On top of this, my condo will be left looking like a shit hole. I'm not fucking my shit up carrying trash down the stairs again. I'm not holding my breath on getting my security deposit back at this point.

So, Yeah...

I'm trying to get out. I'm not successful yet... but I am trying...

pray for my back. 🥲