Moving is a pain

Especially when you’re setting up house in a place you don’t own and moved into after another has lived in it.

Let me enumerate.

  1. Although we lived with Bry’s mom for just a little over a year, we’ve managed to accumulate a lot of stuff that we need to take to our new home. We had to get them into several boxes and I’m telling you, those cardboard containers are expensive. We had 20 boxes and those were still not enough to hold all of our things.
  2. We hired a truck to transport our things, which, apart from the boxes, included a bookcase, bookshelf, chest of drawers, bed frame and mattress, futon, rolling pantry shelf (with all the cans and bottles on them) and wheeled kitchen counter (I don’t exactly know what it’s called). You would think that professional movers know how to take care of their clients’ furniture and what-not, but no. The edges of my bookcase were scuffed, one of the shelves was misplaced and some of our books had folded pages because the boxes holding them popped open.
  3. If figuring out how to get all our things into boxes was difficult, unpacking was even harder. We numbered and labeled all our boxes, but we didn’t apportion all our things in such a way that would make each container weight about the same. This means certain boxes cannot be placed on top of another carton, making it a tad more difficult to unpack by room.
  4. Not being the first tenant and having the previous occupant leave just a week prior to our move-in date meant that our landlord did not have sufficient time to fix all that needed to be fixed and clean all that needed to be cleaned. Which, in turn, resulted in a very hotheaded me. I expected a place where we can just start unpacking our stuff and that we’ll clean up only the mess that we’ve made. But no. The bathrooms, the kitchen, the refrigerator, the microwave oven, the cupboards, the stovetop, the bedrooms, the laundry area, the living room — they were all filthy. Translation, we had to clean every effin’ room first before we unpack the corresponding boxes. Not nice at all.
  5. We spent Friday night cleaning the bedroom (well enough so that we’d have somewhere to sleep) and the kitchen (where most of out stuff will be). The next day was spent cleaning the two bathrooms and scrubbing the bedroom floor. Sunday, we went to Home Depot to get a shower heater and to the grocery for food and other essentials, dishwashing liquid, for example. Monday was spent cleaning the horrendous laundry area and waiting for shower heater guy to install the unit and dirty up the bathroom I so vigorously cleaned just two days back.

    And then, of course, we had to get back to work so we had to leave the living room and the second bedroom at their current state of dirt and disarray. It was only this Saturday that we were able to unpack all of our books and get them into their proper shelves, vacuum the entire first floor, and finally set up them lovely curtains. The floor’s still not as clean as I want it to be, but I just don’t know what, apart from regular vacuum cleaning, can get those stains out. But having the curtains out is such a relief because it means not having to endure polo barong-clad men peering out from the other building’s elevator lobby into our window. That happened only once, by the way, at least that I am aware of.

    The living room — before
    The living room — before
    Living room — after
    Living room — after

    Sunday was devoted to sprucing up the second room and doing another round of vacuum cleaning on the first and second floors, and the stairs.

  6. The first time we saw the place, I think we were overwhelmed by the fact that there’s so much space, at least when compared with the boxy units we previously viewed. Now that we’ve actually spent a week here, we’re seeing all those kinks we missed out the first time such as the loose hinge on the bathroom door, the yucky greenish hue of the CFLs and the sound emanating from the nearby videoke place. We actually don’t know where it is or if it even is a videoke place, but come on, where else can people sing their hearts out from two in the afternoon to 10 or 11 in the evening? I actually don’t know how long the singing goes on, as I’ve stayed downstairs only up to 11. Thank goodness the ruckus doesn’t reach us upstairs.

Of course, having said all that, there is still some sense of satisfaction at having a place you can call your own, even if you don’t actually own it. The responsibility that goes with having to pay the rent and the utilities is daunting, but it also gives a sense of proprietorship.

I’m also excited about the prospect of having people over. A few people have already been to our place, one on the night we moved in and a couple of friends on Sunday night. I’m vacillating on having a housewarming party, though. I do want to have friends and family over, but we don’t have enough seating space, a fact made real obvious when a friend of ours dropped by Sunday with her husband and son, but buying a couch isn’t in our list of priorities at the moment.

I guess I’m really an adult now.