The last day of packing, Wednesday, was harsh. I knew I didn't have enough time so once at work I did a few crucial jobs and left again. I was back at home at 11 am, I packed until 8 pm. It was sooooo hot out and everything was dusty and icky. I felt like crud. For the first time in memory I actually felt lonely, I really wanted someone to take a bit of load of my shoulders, to do stuff without me having to ask and outline exactly what I need, and there is nobody like that in my life. I cried.
At 9 my friends S&M came over to pick us up to go sleep in the new house. I had a car full of stuff I felt I needed for the night. I was, and still am somewhat, in that strange state where your body is drop dead tired but your mind is still wired to the point of snapping and you can't actually sleep.
Moya, of course, completely freaked out in the new place and hid. I saw her slinking around at first and then I didn't spot her anymore but I assumed she would be somewhere safe. Well, yeah. I started making the bed. I had brought several throw pillows, plaids and assorted bits and pieces on earlier trips and just threw it all in the closet. And then I cleaned the bathroom and took a shower.
So... Where was the bloody cat? By now I was a little worried and I couldn't find her anywhere. The only place left was the very same closet I had just piled full of pillows and stuff. OMFG. I started emptying out the closet again and yes. At the very bottom of the pile, inside a rather nice bag made of woven plastic strands was the cat. I nearly had a heart attack. She was rather woozy and I could lift her out of the bag without so much as a twitch from her. But, she was able to jump off the bed and slink under it. A little later she was hiding in the catbox (cats do that, I guess it smells familiar, at least). Still later she was back under the bed and stayed there for quite some time.
The next day was the big move. I realised that I am really getting old because the movers looked like kids to me but they were all able to drive a big truck and one of them told me her had been working for the firm for ten years. While they were installing the lift I quickly put a metric fuckton of magazines in bags, I had given up on them the day before but now there was time to get them after all. The installing of the lift on both ends took the most time of the entire move. It went so fast, it was completely insane! They started at 8 am and all was done by 2 pm. Including assembling the wardrobe.
There was a bit of bother with the one bookcase I knew would be trouble. See, my dad built me these two bookcases to fit neatly in a difficult corner. Only, I told him the ceiling height and he understood that to mean the bookcase height. So they fit with only a centimetre or so to spare. One is shallow and that works but the other is much deeper and we only got it upright because there is this one specific spot in the room where the ceiling is just that little bit higher. The movers were unconvinced that it would make a difference and were ready to abandon the project. I moved the case to the exact right spot and lo: it worked. Luckily the ceiling in the new place is a bit higher, here they fit with no trouble at all.
Another data point for posterity: when the guys moved the big wardrobe I counted TWENTY-TWO toy mice under it. Twenty-two, Moya. All yours. I threw most of them away but the cat has an impressive amount of toys right now ;p
I was seriously impressed by how strong the movers were. There was an old car parked in front of the new place. Really old, vintage but a wreck. Still, someone is paying for a permit for the thing because this is Amsterdam and parking is seriously expensive and very carefully monitored. Anyway, the guys just pushed it a space over. And that is not that amazing but they managed to steer it by pushing on the wheels and deposited it ever so neatly in the next space.
Once all boxes were in and the furniture was roughly in place the movers left, and Moya came out of her hiding place. She is fine now, a bit skittish but apparently things smell right and she feels safe enough.
While I was having dinner yesterday I played with the iPhone as a sad substitute for the Macbook. There was an e-mail from my ISP: the DSL line had been activated. Yay! So I jumped up, found the modem and set it up so i could have the rest of my dinner properly: while browsing the internet!