I hate moving out!

The lease to my apartment at University Club expired at noon today and obviously I had to move out. For the past few days I had been packing up all my belongings in preparation. The process was made more complicated by the fact that me, my girlfriend, my sister, my roommate and my uncle were all moving out of Charlotte as well so I had no place to store my stuff for the following year. My roommate and I decided to get a storage unit and few miles away from the university area to stash our stuff. The next problem was that we didn't have a truck to move our boxes and what not to the storage unit. Another one of my roommates Dan, told me not to worry about it, that he would get a friend's truck or a U-Haul so we could all move our stuff. Due to a number of other reasons, Dan said he would get the U-Haul truck this morning at 8 am.

This morning, I woke up at 8 am, and Dan not long after, and while I stacked all the boxes in the living room, he went to get the truck. I had a lot more boxes than I expected so it took me a while to get everything organized. Even though our rooms were clean, the common areas were quite filthy and my plan was to get all the boxes in the truck and that way we had more room to work with as we cleaned.

Dan went to the U-Haul locations, but they did not have the truck we wanted and the ones they did have were far to expensive for us to move. By 11:15 am, Dan had no luck getting a truck, and Hannah and I, starving because we didn't have breakfast left to Breugger's to get something really quick. When we got back at 11:30, I went to the University Club office to ask them if they could give us an hour more because we didn't have the truck yet. They replied rather brusquely, I must say, telling me that that was out of the question, that they would come and inspect the apartment at noon and that if there was stuff in there I would be charged $100. Absurd really.

Since I could do nothing about it. I raced back to the apartment and tried to get everything done in 20 minutes. There was a lot of stuff in there that we could have used, mugs, plates, a lot of cutlery, but since we had absolutely no time, I had to throw it all. I called Dan and told him that we couldn't keep our stuff in there and so he hurried back, abandoning his search for a truck.

If I thought my day was going badly then, there was a lot more coming my way.

By noon, we had miraculously gotten all the stuff out and emptied the entire apartment. A little more relieved, Dan called his friend and told him that we would need to borrow his truck. Right after he left to get it, with all our stuff sitting out in the parking lot, it began to rain. Hannah and I raced to cover the boxes and electronic items with whatever blankets we had. The rest we tried to move into a covered space to protect it. I grabbed Dan's printer off the ground but it had a large printer cartridge sitting on top of it. without a stopped and in my hurry, I spilt concentrated ink on my jeans and shoes. As was expected, the moment we got everything covered it stopped raining, but by that time all the boxes were wet.

Dan arrived around half an hour later and we loaded the boxes onto truck and went on our way. Fortunately nothing happened and we reached the storage unit and piled the boxes in. All the boxes even fit in our tiny 25 sq ft unit and I was happy that we had it finally out of the way. That's when Dan tripped and stepped on the lock by mistake, breaking off the key inside it. We found it funny though, because nothing was going our way and got a new lock without thinking much of it. Then, we headed back to the apartment to pile the rest of the stuff on the truck for the second trip.

The moment we drove out of the apartment with the second load, it started pouring rain, harder than before. Not wanting to risk damaging our belongings, we parked in the nearest covered space, the East Parking Deck at UNC Charlotte and waited till the rain subsided. Luckily it was over in about 30 minutes and we set off again. Obviously, it started raining again, and we were forced to park in the nearest gas station. This time the rain lasted about an hour and we ate chips and dip (delicious) while we watched the downpour.

Once we had put the rest of my stuff in the storage unit, Dan and I headed towards his parents place to put his stuff. On the way there, we were chatting, when I suddenly felt a sharp stabbing pain in my back. Thinking it was a muscle spasm I reached behind to massage the spot, and as I was pulling my hand away, I felt the same intense pain in two different spots in my palm. I looked down and was shocked to see a gigantic bee nestling in my palm, quivering in his last moments, as he died in his last act of defiance. I shook my hand instinctively, knocking over my sweet tea all over my lap in the process.

By this point, I wasn't surprised at the shitty way the day had been going so I just expected more to happen. Fortunately, I didn't die, which was logically the next step of this torturous process, and here I am writing about it, barely able to move my thumb because the bee managed to get his way.

Conclusion: I ******* hate moving.