Adam and I were all set to move into our new flat on Saturday, after a week of stressful drama on the landlords side, we were finally ready to go. Our Dad's at the ready, Adam and his dad had already driven all of Adam's belongings down on Friday night, with the idea being Saturday would be smooth, plain sailing. The irony.
So we starting loading up the van on Saturday morning, the non refundable, no date exchange van to transport all our belongings from Birmingham to London; we were ready and raring to move into our gorgeous new two bed in south east London, when we got a call to say that we wouldn't be able to move in because of an issue with the gas. I was obviously, furious and my inner monologue was beyond colourful, but with my Dad and future father in law also sat in my childhood home's dining room I wasn't about to launch into an uncontrollable rant like I would if it was just me and Adam. I was furious. Adam looked proper fucked off.
We'd already had issues: getting the all the landlords to sign the contract ( turned out there was more than one landlord and the other wasn't aware of our move!)
and be made aware of the move, making sure everything was paid correctly at the right time, in the right place. So we were exhausted with the antics before we'd even lifted a finger. It was a drama, a real mother fucking drama.
Logistics wise, Adam was in Newcastle, dads is still in Birmingham and I have to be at my desk at 9am Monday Morning, I've had enough of hostels
and being straight out of uni haven't got all that dolla, especially as we've just forked out over 3k in deposits and fees FOR A FLAT WE NOW CAN'T GET INTO.
FML. Where are we going to stay? How am I going to get to work? Why are people so unprepared and unorganised? Give me a break.
So the four of us, cups of tea in hand all looking pretty fucked off. (This is my online space, I'll say fucked off if I want to.
) We racked our brains as to what to do with everything Adam and I own, this non returnable van and Rodney's (Adam's Dad
) rather full Qashqai.
Storage. (Good god this is becoming and expensive weekend
) we talk about storage, and shelf all other super key things such as: How i'm getting to work, how many pairs of pants are easily accessible and 'What the hell goes with Birkinstocks! That's the only thing I've packed!!!'
Storage, that was the only option to make full use of the van and get our stuff closer to our new home whilst we had the help of both of our Dads. So that was the new plan, The absolute legends as Big Yellow Storage
hooked us up and I was just about to put my card details in online, when the agent called.
|Addy cracking a rare smile yesterday!|
'It's all being sorted, you'll be able to move in today, don't worry.
' Well, those are famous last words, aren't they?
Adam again, looked pretty fucked off. So we shelved the storage idea and packed up everything left into the van and set off for London, with the intention of moving into our new home. The intention was strong.
So we took the 'Moving house' family photos, (The photo theme being 'Pose like Clo')
packed snacks and set off in the van.
|My legend Dad and I, I'm wearing Girlfriend Collection sustainable leggings (Amazing leggings!)|
|Snacks at the ready|
We got about 200 yards off the drive before Dad pulled over and me, clearly by this point being very apprehensive of anything going wrong, instantly panicked that we had broken down in a rental van. We hadn't,
Dad was just reshuffling something in the back that was making potentially irritating sounds, so with Dad less irritated, we carried on down the M42.
We were probably somewhere on the M40 when we got a call to say that actually, no, today we can't move in because there is something wrong with the gas and no, the person can't fix it. and the earliest you'll get in is Monday because the person who'll fix it doesn't work weekends. Greattttttttt.
|A bag full of life 'Essentials' that I no longer needed as I wasn't going to be making cups of tea in the new house!'|
We stopped for a pit stop break where Adam and his dad pondered over the ever exciting offerings of a service station, whilst I stretched my legs, trying to convince myself that my issue was very much a first world one and that I should be great ull for what I have, which I am. But still
- how do I get to work Monday? Where do I sleep Monday night?
OMG Graduation is on Tuesday, plus the fact that everything I own is locked up in an enterprise van in the car park, which makes me
a) very concerns that if someone nicks it, my shit is gone and
b) I haven't got anything other than the clothes I'm standing in, meaning I'm going to have to dig out some pieces for whatever next weeks throws at me. I need to be dressed for EVERY possible life situation, evidentially.
) when we got our storage unit and unloaded the car and vans contents into what can only be described as a big yellow tin can. From this I learnt two things: my bank balance in this situation is irrelevant and shit, we need to stack things high to fit it all in!
It took us about an hour to haul 7 trolley loads to fill the unit, have a visit from a storage neighbour with a full sized light sabre (
) but after we'd loaded and locked our life belongings behind those yellow doors I felt better. Out stuff wasn't too far from our new home, we'd made the most of the van whilst we had it and we'd controlled the situations we had control of.
I am so fortunate to have a wonderful family, Adam and I wouldn't have been able to do it without our dads help and haulage assistance. We're a real team and got stuck in making lemonade out of lemons.
Still. We're not in our new home, we've further delays and face a tough commute on Monday morning, but hopefully, by Tuesday we'll be in and unpacking! I bloody hope so anyway!