Who is Gonna Move Me?

One of the most important considerations which every person moving out of state must make is “Who is going to handle my precious belongings and get them to my new home safely?”  Back in the day, I’d get a bunch of my friends together, rent a U-Haul, buy beer and pizza and all was good.  Now that all my friends and I have become settled into the Ibuprofen-powered set, that isn’t an option.  As I always do with anything major like this, I research it endlessly until I have made myself crazy.  First, I thought of everyone I knew who had moved and asked them who they had used.  Surprisingly, many of them had forgotten.  That was probably a good thing since we tend to remember the people and companies who send us into seething rages.  The only problem, of course, is that I didn’t have company names.  So then I went to that source of all irrefutable information – the internet.  Oh….My…..God.  I would read a review of one company and be relatively assured that all would be well with my world.  Then I would make the mistake of scrolling down the page where dire warnings of gloom and despair would besiege my brain.  “These guys were HORRIBLE!!!  My Mom was standing quietly for too long I guess and they mistook her for a statue, wrapped her up, stuffed her into a box, and shipped her off to St. Louis!  They said that they recalled hearing “some sort of squeaking”, but chalked it up to road noise.  The worst part was that we were moving to New Orleans!  It was months before we saw her again and no one at the office would answer our calls!!!”  YIKES!!…..

On top of everything else, my tenants in Florida waved a lease at me that didn’t expire until December.  It was a little difference of opinion, but I had to concede that they were right.  Which, of course, fit right in with the “Ball Is In Your Park” decision delayer (if you recall my list from a few posts back).  I was able to sell my house and still have time to get used to the idea of leaving Connecticut.  I would be able to spend the holidays with my friends and help Karen finish up the bait shop season.  And I could take a little more time looking for a mover – and now a storage facility.

I started first by calling some of those movers that give you a quote over the phone.  As I walked around my house describing what I owned over the phone to a complete stranger sitting who-knows-where, my brain was screaming “Are you NUTS???  This guy has NO idea if the table you just mentioned is big enough for 6 or for a Heads of State function at the White House!!  And he’s giving you a binding quote?”  I pictured myself in Florida, standing in front of my house screaming at a driver handing me a $10,000 invoice in addition to what I had paid upfront.  The internet had some of those stories too.  By the time a few hours had passed, I was in full-fledged panic and the nerves from my spinal cord injury were on fire.

I researched “how to pick a mover” and tried to find an article that was not sponsored by any particular moving company – no easy task.  I finally did get some useful information though.  I learned that I must be sure that my mover has a US DOT number, which is a unique license number issued by the United States Department of Transportation.  AND my source gave me a database from which to investigate this information!  AHA!  NOW we’re cooking!  With open spreadsheet on my laptop, I diligently compared license numbers, insurance information, years in business, etc., etc., etc.  And when I finished, I had myself a spreadsheet full of DOT numbers, insurance info, years in business and ……..not a whole lot else.  PLEASE!!!  I need someone to tell me who to pick!!  Obviously, the panic was not subsiding any.

After agonizing over this for several days, I employed my “Scarlett O’Hara – I’ll think about it tomorrow” decision delayer mode until I could handle going back to deal with it.  Hopefully, my brain would unscramble a bit as well.  Finally I got up the nerve to think about it again and called two companies who would provide in-home interviews.

We did the tour of my house and chatted a bit.  A few days later, the estimates came in.  I even visited one to see their storage facilities and got a good feel for the office staff.  I then analyzed my silly spreadsheet (made me feel like it hadn’t been a total waste), reviewed the estimates and then made my scientific and well-researched choice – which was to pick the one closest to me who also seemed most capable of dealing with my anxieties.  Alright, alright…not the most scientific but at least I had made a decision!  A few weeks after they had come they had moved my precious belongings out of my house, I was talking with a friend of mine.  She said that the company I used had been her mover and she had just loved them.  Now why didn’t I think to call her sooner?  It would have saved me a lot of Googling, spreadsheets – and angst!  Ah well – better late than never I suppose!

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

I have always loved Florida.  For years, it has been my dream to move there, but year after year I would visit and then chicken out about buying a house.  In the fall of 2013, after much hang-wringing and driving my friends crazy asking for advice, I finally bought a home in Venice (a shout-out must be extended here to my long-suffering friends who went through THAT decision making process with me – poor things).  And then I went back home to CT to start a series of what I affectionately call decision delayers.  Which are basically change avoiders.  I’m really good at these.  I like them so much, I have names for them.  Being from the corporate world, I got used to using acronyms.  In the corporate world, we can speak in entire sentences…sometimes even paragraphs…completely in letters!  But don’t worry, I’ll keep spelling things out.  I’m out of the corporate world now.  Time to relearn how to speak like a human anyway.  So here we go……First there’s the big one.  The Decision Not To Make A Decision, hereinafter known as the DNTMAD.  There is the “Ball Is In Your Park” decision delayer, or BIIYP.  Then there’s the “I’m Too Busy To Make A Decision”, the ITBTMAD.  And last, but not least, my favorite.  The Scarlett O’Hara “I’ll go mad if I think about that right now.  I’ll think about it tomorrow.” (said with back of hand placed gently on forehead while swooning and speaking in true Southern-damsel-in-distress voice).  I’ll just call that one the Scarlett.  It’s too pretty for an acronym.  So what’s the difference between the Decision Not To Make A Decision (DNTMAD) and the Scarlett you ask?  The Scarlett is short duration decision delaying – after which time, the independent woman that I can be decides to drop the Diva Drama and DO SOMETHING.  The Decision Not To Make A Decision (DNTMAD) is not as dramatic, but it can carry on for extended periods of time.  Sometimes months…sometimes years!  And it comes with really, really logical excuses.

After returning from my Florida home purchase I decided that I had to go back to work until I was ready to retire.  So I flew comfortably into Decision Not To Make A Decision (DNTMAD).  Hey I was proud of myself!  I had the house decided upon and purchased.  It was rented to nice tenants.  Life was good!  No need for further changes!  But by the following summer’s end, it was obvious that my spinal cord injury was creating havoc with my ability to function in today’s fast paced, high stress office environment.  And the air conditioning that blasted from vents all around me caused me pain every day.  Winters were no relief from the A/C as the corporate-required 69 degree air blew cold drafts on me constantly. It was miserable. I was miserable.

By the time 2015 rolled around, I had actually made another decision!  (Feel free to applaud).  It was time to retire and head to Florida!  I started with the work of getting my house together to sell and my target date was April 1 to have it on the market.  But my handy man’s appearances were unpredictable at best and when he was here, 4 hour stretches seemed to be the maximum time he could spend helping me.  And then IT happened.  On March 24, at 2 o’clock in the morning, I woke up in agonizing abdominal pain.  WOW!  Never had gas pains like that before!  What the hell did I eat this time???  OMG!  At one point, I actually broke out into a cold sweat, ripped off all my nightclothes (the person who is always cold, remember?) and laid on the floor waiting for whatever it was to pass.  Finally, I felt a little better, so went back to bed – and there I pretty much stayed for 2 days thinking I had the flu – or food poisoning from eating some out-of-date food item (a subject for another post).  To make a long story short, it wasn’t the flu.  My appendix had burst and by the time I finally got to the emergency room, I had developed peritonitis.  I was in the hospital for a week and when they sent me home, I was still sick.  Ten days later, I was whisked into emergency surgery when my temperature hit 102.9 and they realized I had four abscesses growing and pressing on other organs.  That led to another 10 days in the hospital and a recovery period that I could not have imagined.  And so began another version of the Decision Not To Make A Decision (DNTMAD).

See, that little tiny organ called an appendix had a lot of power.  It made me terribly sick, but it also bit a huge hole into my self-confidence.  I am a fairly independent person, but suddenly I found myself unable to take care of me.  My dear friend Karen had to do my grocery shopping for me and buy meals for me.  I had to leave my dogs in the care of my friend Jo the vet as I just did not have the energy to deal with them.  I would get up in the morning, eat breakfast, do my dishes and collapse on the couch, feeling like a wet dishrag.  I did not begin to feel like myself again until August.  I suppose that I could have put the house on the market then, but my psyche had taken a huge hit.  What if I got sick again?  I have people who love me here – who would help me in FL?  I have snowbird friends there – what if I got sick in June when they were gone?  Suddenly, moving to Florida was not very appealing.  I was seriously scared.  And so, I hunkered down.  Decision Not To Make A Decision (DNTMAD) was really comfortable at this point.

That delay did have a beneficial effect however.  First, it allowed me to heal.  There was no way I could have handled the physical demands of moving with a 6 inch, still-mending surgery wound on my abdomen.  And then my dear friend Karen, who so kindly did my grocery shopping and other errands while giving me tremendous emotional support, was diagnosed with cancer in May.  There was no way I was going to leave her to do that battle without me.  I drove her to her chemo appointments and stayed with her while she went through those truly frightening appointments.  Karen and I have been friends for 46 years and I can honestly tell you that our sicknesses brought us closer than we have ever been.  She is not just my friend – she is my sister.  And her family is my family.  And of course with that closeness comes another reason to NOT change my residence…….

As I happily spent the winter of 2015-2016 nestled in Decision Not To Make A Decision (DNTMAD), I had what I guess you could say was an epiphany.  One day when I was staring out of my window looking at my yard, I thought of my Dad.  I had begged him countless times to leave his house and move to a retiree community.  He stubbornly refused, but he paid the price in loneliness.  Before he died, he said to me “I should have listened to you”.  And there I was, staring out of my window and saying to myself “You aren’t taking your own advice!  Ut-oh…..I hate when this happens!!

So in January of 2016, I started back on prepping the house for sale.  Which of course, initiated an extended session of I’m Too Busy To Make A Decision”, the ITBTMAD.  I worked like a dog.  I cleaned.  I organized.  I bought things with which to stage the house.  I moved furniture.  And I am not kidding when I tell you I spent the entire month of February in my basement.  What the heck was in the basement you ask?  I think my entire life of “things I just couldn’t part with” was there, that’s what.  Folks, let me tell you something I learned.  Get rid of that stuff NOW while you still have the chance!  OMG!  I had my very own TLC Hoarding: Buried Alive starter kit!!!

  basement

OK.  In all fairness, that mess you see is what it looked like after I took it all out of neatly stored boxes, but still…..AIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

After 3 yard sales and countless trips to Goodwill, my house looked like a normal person lived there.  And I fell in love with it all over again!  It was comfortable and clean and organized….  Ahhhhhhh!!!!  And then spring came and the yard just looked so……. beautiful!

backyard

A little unwarranted medical scare at this time moved me back into another Decision Not To Make A Decision (DNTMAD) session.  When that disappeared, I went into an extended Scarlett with the oak tree you see in the picture as the backdrop (just use your imaginations and picture a swooning redhead there by the tree).  My inner (my friends might say outer) Drama Queen was in full swing.  What to do?  What to do?