Migration – Part 1

The boxes came up to my chest. One on top of another, they stood three high. Within them held my life, or at least a large part of it. The remainder still lies within the crawl space at my parents house, sitting in two neon colored Rubber Maid tote crates. It was hard to navigate around my kitchen/living room. That is the conundrum of dwelling in a bachelor suite. Thank God I was on my way out. While the company had been pleasant during my stay, a different life beckoned. It was time to move on.

My partner in crime – Amanda, and I made one last effort to capture all those that had escaped my attention, and managed to remain at large. A pen sat on the counter top, two pictures frame laid within the cupboard, six jackets, three pillows, and a golf bag filled with clubs have somehow eluded me. She was annoyed, yet she did not nag. Living with her will be easy.

The U-Haul rental van awaited us outside, ready for us to fill her with the literal building blocks of my life. Getting them out to her was not an easy task. An already narrow walkway to the back alley was congested with garbage cans and recycling bins. An out of service mini-van registered more than half the walk way.  The steps that were present also diminished the use of my trolley. The seven dollar rental fee seemed to be a lost cause.

I went back inside the house and surveyed the scene. Thirteen boxes vs. one man…and one girl I refused to let lift a finger. Efficiency vs. ego. My pride prevailed. I squatted low, and attempted the dangerous triple box shuffle. It would’ve been easy for a strong burly man such as myself, but driving the van around and using the trolley to wheel the boxes out seemed more logical. I did not want to waste that seven dollars.

Twenty minutes later, she was filled to the brim with the contents of my childhood, teendom, and adult-so-called-life. The suite still contained parts of me. I am a terribly inefficient packer. Amanda mentioned this. We laughed. Well, she laughed.

Unloading thirteen boxes, three at a time, required two people and five trips up the elevator and five trips down. The operation had to be completed in stealth mode. It was against strata policy to move in during the evening.  The walk from the van to the apartment elevator was a good half a block, plus a 2 minute trip in the elevator. Three boxes at a time instead of one, the trolley had proved its worth.