Moving Drama

I thought this was going to be the easiest move I've ever made since graduating high school, because my parents were paying for a company to come in and move everything for me.  I assumed that meant packing everything up, as well, which I'm used to from growing up in the military.  So I told the guy at the moving company that I wanted them to pack and I wanted to supervise.  He said that wouldn't be a problem and we even talked about how many different boxes I'd need for all my stuff.  I've hardly done any packing other than setting aside things I didn't want the movers to pack: Harley's stuff, clothes for Auburn/New Jersey, important papers and pictures, etc.

Then the moving company called today to go over my order again to make sure everything goes the way it's supposed to.  I tell them I have a couple more pieces of furniture to add, because my cousin was going to take my futon and dresser.  She ended up getting a furnished apartment and didn't need them.  The guy said that wouldn't be a problem, and then said something about coming in and loading up the truck.  I mentioned them packing everything up and he said that's not how it was written on the order.  He said he could add it, but that, plus the extra space on the truck for the extra furniture, would require an additional $700 deposit.

$700?!  Seriously?!  I said, "Whoa! Hold the phone!"  I called Dad, and he said, "Oh hell no."  So I called them back and said to nix the extra furniture and packing and to leave the order as is, and I would take care of packing all my stuff.

Boy, was I hot!  I was so mad!  I went to WalMart and bought some plastic bins so I could start packing everything, and called one of the ministry groups to come get the futon and dresser.  However, their building is being renovated and they have zero storage space.  I'm going to have to call around some different places tomorrow.  Otherwise, the dumpster is going to get a nice futon for lunch one day this week.  I repacked one of my teaching bins into a bigger bin on wheels, but it's still SO heavy!  I was going to put my teaching stuff in my car to take with me just in case I get a teaching job in Virginia, but seeing as how freaking heavy it is, I may just take my chances and put it on the moving truck.  I certainly can't lift the damn thing, even on wheels.

I really don't want to have to pack up my kitchen.  I hate packing kitchen stuff.  There are so many big pieces and little pieces, glass pieces and awkward-shaped pieces... So aggravating.  I think if my parents brought their kitchen stuff over from Alaska, I may just donate most of my kitchen stuff to whatever mission group comes to get my futon and dresser.  Otherwise, the dumpster will be having dinner, as well.

I hate moving.

Actually... I like moving.  It's the packing and unpacking and dealing with heavy boxes that I don't care for... Ugh.