Tuesday was a big moving day. Because we’d squished in a three-day trip to New Brunswick and the people who’d bought all our furniture were taking everything on Friday (while we’re away), everything had to be dismantled and sorted into going/not going.
The mattress disposal guys came at about 10:30, one of the guys an Australian from Newcastle who’d been here for five years. He loves it here. Lucky guy. When they arrived I got a call from the guy who was picking up the freight stuff.
He was going to go to the Rogers Centre, which is a big baseball pitch way downtown. Our street, though sharing a common word, is not anywhere near it, yet for some reason it was now my problem that this moron, who delivers things for a living, didn’t know where my street was.
It took an age to get him to understand that I did not live at the baseball pitch and that he would have to come uptown further to get to me. My tone was not pleasant by this stage yet he seemed to take it all in his stride.
Meanwhile, the mattress was disposed of without issue. I paid my money. They went away.
I then got another phone call from the delivery guy saying that one of the streets near me had been blocked off by police. I wanted to ask him why this was my problem. Instead I said he’d have to find another way to get there, to which he asked if the part of my street was open. I said it was, as it had been when I was there a few minutes before. He then waffled on about something else before finally asking if he needed to bring in a trolley. I said I’d bring all the boxes down to the lobby (because I could trust him to not get lost inside our condo).
He eventually arrived, blocked the driveway for the condo parking. I helped load the boxes into his van while he tried to make chit chat but I just wanted this man out of my life by that stage. He said the weather (it was raining) must make me feel like home and I said I wasn’t English but Australian. He then wanted to chat about the gym but I’d had enough. With the last box loaded onto his trolley, I asked if I had to sign anything. He said no. I said goodbye.
I have no idea whether we will see any of those boxes again.
By then it was time for lunch so I walked to the Nespresso store to recycle the used pods and then had Japanese for lunch. The rest of the afternoons I spent dismantling the bed and the day bed, doing loads of washing, and making sure that everything that was going was all stored in one area for ease of taking.
In the evening Glen and I went to Bec and Al’s for dinner. They’re very kindly letting us stay in their spare room for our last nights in Toronto. Al had made a really nice pasta. We then rounded that off with some ice wine that had been chilling in our fridge for months, and some chocolates that Glen had received for his birthday. We chatted for a bit and then Glen and I watched a couple of episodes of Sense8 before going to bed.
It’s a bit sad looking at the apartment in its state of disarray, especially as we’re not really moving this stuff but we are moving home. When we come back on Friday to an even emptier apartment, I’m going to feel even more conflicted about this move home (I’ve been able to keep most of those feelings at bay by keeping busy). I did get sad going to bed in a bed that was not my own king size one.
But life is full of changes. We adapt. We’ll be fine. The trick will be to make sure we’re happy as well. 🙂