A.K.A. Mike's move to Michigan
The day approaches... soon now I will load up all my worldly goods into a truck, and then set out for the mysterious land of... Michigan! But before that day arrives, a great number of things must be done… oh a great number indeed! If you've never had the pleasure of moving across state lines, by yourself, then you are missing out on a unique exercise in misery and frustration that can only be somewhat approximated in written description. However, I shall do my best to communicate to you, the reader, as much of the sorrow, angst, terror and drama as I can. Fear not, intrepid reader, for though these tales of woe may chill you to the bone, cause small children to cry, and more hardy adults to feel a bit of their very soul slip away, know that I, your guide on this amusement park ride of anguish, am made of sterner stuff and will successfully navigate these troubled waters. So long as my Internet connection remains active, my laptop functioning, and my thesaurus handy, I shall prevail!
This grand adventure will be broken out into two parts; Pre-Move (this article), and Post-Move.
Now, before we begin this tale of dark comedy, I shall confide in you that this is not my first foray into the sinister realm of Inter-State Moving. Yes, timid companion, I have braved the great unknowns between "home" and "that strange new place where I have to learn all the damn roads again and figure out where the heck the nearest grocery store and Wal-Mart are" but even that first excursion out from the comforts of that which is familiar was not truly alone. For on that first jaunt, I was aided by my loving parents, who out of the goodness of their heart, and an earnest desire to get me out of their house, aided me in my relocation from Pennsylvania to Connecticut neigh on 2 years ago. My father, being a manly mans man of might (how's THAT for some alliteration!) drove the U-Haul, while my sweet mother took on the time-honored duty of wives/mothers/girlfriends everywhere when it comes to moving (or any household chore)... namely telling us we were doing everything wrong.
About every 30 seconds.
For three solid days.
So it was with their reassuring presence, and constant background bickering, that I packed my world into a 10' trailer, with the computer equipment safely stowed in my car, and moved 350mi from the only place I had ever known.
With that memory festering in my mind, previously hidden safely behind the hazy wall of alcohol and cold medicine, I stupidly set myself up for a repeat of those dark days. It's almost as if I were a Velociraptor in Jurassic Park, I would have just kept touching the electric fence thinking "Oh dear me this is painful!" and continued shocking myself, even after all the other Velociraptors had figured out how to escape the fence and eat all the unsuspecting park guests. Yes... stupid me zapping myself silly while all my friends go out and have dinner at the best buffet of their lives... And I really had my eye on the tasty little ones... they're like human veal, haven't had a chance to toughen up yet...
Wha? Where was I? Oh, yes... willingly subjecting myself to a circle of hell even Dante could not bring himself to describe. So anyway, here I am, preparing to make the trek once more. As Shakespeare so aptly put it in Henry V: "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more" Though I do not believe that assaulting the French in battle holds a candle to the mental and emotional marathon that is moving. Perhaps one day, some future great playwright will etch out words of flowing prose (in iambic pentameter, if you please!) that chronicle this great human endeavor, this epic struggle of willpower. However, today is not that day, and I have already taken too long with this particular academic digression comparing my grand conflict with the rusty word-smithing of "Uncle Willie".
By now, I hope I've properly established my past in regards to this, one of the most catastrophic of human events. So it is time to move forward! Time to set our sights on the horizon, on the hurdles that are about to be overcome! This is the second act where, after some obstacle has been defeated in the first act, things start to look up for our stalwart heroes. But just like in The Empire Strikes Back, though victory seems sure, a dark cloud is poised to blot out the sun. But we have not reached that moment of darkness yet in our story, so let us press on.
As I have previously chronicled, at the start of this, the sixth month of the year of our lord 2006, I interviewed with, and was offered a job by Stardock, our most gracious hosts here on this fine website. This set into motion events that bring me ever closer to once more bridging that gap from "home" to "how the hell did I end up in the red-light district? Mapquest told me to take a left on 8 Mile!" Let me set before you the timetable of events past, and events yet to be that propel me on towards the dark tangled fingers of fate:
May 2006 - After a many, many, many.. many revisions of my cover letter and resume, they're saved and sent off for review, to determine if I am worthy of further employment attention. The Gods smile down upon me in this case and I am granted personal audience.
June 2nd - A great metal bird carries me from the blue-blooded streets of New England (You P-ah-k the C-ah in H-ah-v-ah-d Y-ah-d) to our Nation's Capital, where the airline somehow manages to lose the pilot, delaying my subsequent connecting bird by over an hour. Where the pilot went, I care not, for ignorance sometimes truly IS bliss. Trials and tribulations of travel aside, I reach the hallowed halls of Stardock and am introduced around (an excerpt from the lunchroom introduction: "Everyone, this is Zoomba from IRC.. Zoomba, this is everyone"). I then proceeded to consume edibles from a nearby establishment of edible things with Cordelia, KarmaGirl and Draginol. From there I was mercilessly pummeled with questions, my mind sent through the proverbial wringer, my allegiance to my country questioned, and at one point a demand that I name fellow members of the communist party. Having survived that, dinner was had with Draginol, Cordelia and Mormegil at yet another establishment of edible things, this time close to my hotel, and where they had free BUCKETS of peanuts. The day thus ended, successful, and with the knowledge that I would soon be employed there.
June 6th - Offer made, offer accepted, notice turned in to soon-to-be-former boss. Last day of work at Insurance Co set for June 30th. Start date at Stardock set for July 12th. Must move between July 1st and July 11th.
Thus my deadlines were set. The line had been drawn in the sand. The proverbial gauntlet thrown down in challenge. The launch date determined. And many other metaphors symbolizing deadlines. I had five weeks to disassemble, transport and reassemble my entire life; all while documenting, tidying up and training others to replace me at my soon-to-be-prior place of employment. Many challenged were before me. First and foremost of them was to find a new abode in this strange land of Michigan. It simply would not do to live in my car, parked outside the office, trying to bathe every day in the sinks of the McDonalds next door.
So, on June 17th, I once again mounted a giant metal bird and soared forth, from New England (take-off at 5:45am) to the Detroit-Wayne Airport. Once again braving the roads and traffic of the northern-Midwest, and scouting out places to live. Sadly, most establishments of housing rental would not have vacancies appear until a few weeks past when I would need to relocate. Based on budget and availability, I came upon a home in the quaint hamlet of Canton. Paperwork signed and money exchanged, at least I would not find myself living in a Ford Focus. Upon completion of this crucial task, once more Cordelia and Mormegil came to the rescue, this time to begin the process of acclimating me to this new and strange place that would become my home. All afternoon they chauffeured me around the area, pointing out grocery stores, shopping malls, further establishments of edible things, and most important of all: how to reach the office. The day culminated in dinner with Cordelia, Mormegil and we were joined by WishX. Many others were invited (such as Cari, KimK, KarmaGirl, GreenReaper etc…) but I believe they all conveniently had other places to be. Some (Cari) went so far as to book a trip to Georgia just to avoid me. Yes, that’s right Cari… I see through your lies! I know the truth!
The next morning it was back to New England. With a three hour layover in Washington yet again. I do believe by this point the staff at Cinnabon know me well enough to just give me "the usual"when I walk up. I even think the manager is considering naming his second daughter after me. (Yes, I've been through the Reagan Natl Airport a bit too much lately).
Now that I have a place to store my worldly possessions, it was time to find someone to transport them. For I am not as mighty a manly man as my father, and entrusting to me the keys to a large truck is akin to taking a bull, making it very mad by poking it with sharp sticks, spinning it around a lot, then hyping it up on speed and letting it loose in a china warehouse. Towing my car behind the truck would be like giving the bull a 2-ton tail that has a mind of its own.. and is twitchy. So my options for moving now became either "Scorched Earth" (Burn it all! Burn... burn burn burn burn burn.. hehehehe... FIRE! Hehehehe... Burn!) or "Hire a company for an inhuman amount of money". Despite my penchant for the more destructive of Empedocls' four basic elements of matter, I opted for the second choice. Thus this week I received quotes and appraisals from numerous companies, large and small, that wanted to move my stuff these many miles. Sadly, again my timing is working against me, and a majority of the firms could not commit to retrieving and delivering my goods so soon. Again, it would not be easy until August. Those that remained, would not give me a "Binding Quote", and after much research discovered that this was a typical method to extort vast sums of money from unsuspecting customers whilst they hold all their property hostage. Finally, receiving the binding quote, charging roughly one arm, one leg, several firstborn children, and an oath of fealty. The only catch is that in order to secure a price I can even pretend to afford, my goods will be picked up July 7th, and could be delivered as late as July 25th. So I may face this strange new place with but the barest of bare essentials for weeks.
That brings us to today. The apartment is rented, the movers are scheduled. Now all that remains to be done is final packing and cleaning. June 30th I leave my current job. July 1st I drive home to PA for a weekend of holiday revelry with comrades and relations. July 5th I drive back to CT. July 7th the movers claim my property. July 9th I start the drive to MI (crossing Canadia) and July 10th I arrive. July 12th I start work.
Thus concludes this, the first part of the great western trek. Tune in next month, once I have my furniture returned to me, to hear the tale of the actual move and the trials and tribulations that result.