August 13, 2008: Sal leaves super early that morning (7:00am); we had gone to bed at around 4 or later. How she was able to function I will still never know. I lay in bed thinking of all the things I had to do that day and immediately find myself unable to sleep. I decide it’s probably a good idea to jump start my day early and roll out of bed.
I throw my clothes on and take a walk around the area that I will soon refer to as my home. I call my mom to inform her of how tired I truly am. Side note: My mom and dad were suppose to drive me to New York but my grandmother got sick and they had to stay and take care of her. Luckily my best friend is the greatest and could take a last minute road trip with me. To be quite honest, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. It only seemed right that before we both embarked on our quarter life crisis adventures (she moved to Spain) we did one last hoorah. Anyway about an hour after we had left for our laboring drive to NY my mom called and informed me that her cousin (from NJ) had passed. My immediate reaction was “I’m so sorry mom are you ok”. Once I got confirmation that she was ok, my next feeling was excitement because I knew that meant she would be coming up to New York after all. Turns out, because God works in funny ways, she was able to come up the day after Sal Gal left. And it wasn’t a moment too soon because that Wednesday was utter hell and had me crying in frustration as I realized this move was a bit more then I bargained for.
After an hour of aimless roaming, I decided the most productive thing for me to do was go back to bed. I came home and passed out until 3:00. When I woke up I couldn’t believe how late it was. I had big plans of shopping and cleaning all day. I jump out of bed, throw my clothes on, and rush out the door to begin another day of putting my life in order.
I get back in my car and start on my trek to NJ. I enlist the help of Rudolph to again guide my sleigh to Ikea, but some how, between talking with OnStar and pulling out of the parking lot, I once more wind up on the QueensBoro bridge. Again, baffled at how every road seems to lead to this bridge, I change my coordinates and head to the Ikea in Brooklyn. It should be noted that traffic between 3pm-6m is possibly the worst traffic in America and I found myself smack dab in the middle of it. Frustration sets in for the 10th time in two days.
I eventually find my way to the not so glorious Ikea and proceed to load up my cart with furniture. Now if you haven’t been to an Ikea, you can’t really understand the pain staking process one must go through in order to actually check out of the store. I, by my lonesome, have to move very heavy boxes on to a cart with wheels. So I am bending over the cart, using my feet as brakes, and trying to lift boxes on to it. I am sure the view for everyone else was quite amusing. Especially when I the occasional F bomb was dropped as I haphazardly placed boxes upon boxes on said wheely cart. I finally get through the swarms of people, as Ikea is a very popular place even on weekdays, and check out. Luckily, they do home delivery, because at this point my body hates me from all the lifting (of course it will cost you a pretty penny to do so).
I am then off to the Home Depot. I decided I needed a new toilet seat because God knows what sat on it before. I forgot to mention that my front door had a hole in it because some Jackass took out the top lock. You can imagine how safe I felt to be sleeping in an apartment with a hole in my door. I figured I could bob the builder it myself and home depot would provide the perfect remedy: a lock for the door. So I fumble through and make said purchases. By now, the sun is setting.
…
To go in and out of the city is a trip in-and-of-itself. So once out, you should probably try and get as much done as possible. Keeping to this rule of thumb I venture to Target. Of course I don’t know where Target is. I once again enlist the help of trusty Rudolph. He informs me that the closest Target is on Flatbush and a little alarm goes off in my head. Socorro (a friend from work) had warned me about this area and told me in no uncertain terms that I should not venture to that local. Since the sun is setting, and most of the shadys come out, I decide to ask her if that Target is safe to go to. The conversation goes something like this.
“Hello” - S
“Hi, I’m in hell” - D
“What’s wrong” - S
D- Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Tears. Whine. Tears. Whine.
S- Laughing. Consoling. Laughing some more.
And then the question “Is the Target on Flatbush ok for me to travel to?”
S-“ Where are you?”
D- “I don’t know. I am at Home Depot and there is a highway near by”
S- “ Yea, but where are you?”
D- “Trey (that is what I call her), if I knew where I was, I wouldn’t have called” I of course found humor in the second where are you, as if I frequent Brooklyn often.
S- “You should be fine. It’s close to the city”
This made me slightly happy as I wanted to get as much done as possible and Target has very nice accoutrements. So I proceed on my journey only to find that this particular Target has no parking lot. I would have had to park my car in some paid parking lot, walk to the store, and then carry all of my purchases, God knows how long, back to the car. More annoyed then ever I pass on Target. Of course, I question myself the entire ride back home as it is such a bitch to leave the city and it’s expensive too! At this point it is 9:00 pm and I am exhausted. I had wanted to clean more before my mom came but that just seem like it was in the cards for me. I called my mom to again complain as I was not a happy camper. She suggested I go to bed as I was not the bubbly girl she is use to.
I heeded her advice but first thought it would be in my best interest to put a lock on the door. So I untaped the hole and proceeded to follow the instructions. To my surprise there was only a hole in the door that pasted from the outside to the inside. There was no such hole for the lock to actually connect with the wall. You can only imagine my expression. I was furious. Not only did I purchase a lock for $40 that was rendered useless by this new information, but I was left to stay a night alone in an apartment with a hole in the door. With that I had nothing left to do but throw my hands in the air and pray no one broke in. Tune in tomorrow for the finalley…My apartment gets completed and a few more posts of what seems like complaining. I promise it gets better. :)
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