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!