How to Disorganize Your Life in Four Easy Steps
Imagine, if you will, a young couple. They have been seeing each other for about two years, and have decided to take the BIG STEP: living together. Shudders of morality aside, let’s take a look at the worst part of the relationship to date – the one thing that can destroy your happiness, not to mention your back. The Move.
Step 1: Finding an apartment.
First you have to decide a number of things, even before you buy your first Gazette in two years and start thumbing through the classifieds. How much can the two of you afford? How much room do you need? Are you allergic to his pet Gila Monster? Does he have the one thing you really need in a life-partner – a Mr. Coffee? Once all that is taken care of, you can finally begin the actual process of discovering just how many places in our fair city are beyond your budget.
You will trudge about, taking buses you’ve never heard of to places Wolfe tried to give back to Montcalm. You will discover just why the landlord is advertising a three-bedroom apartment for $100 a month. You will see amazing feats of magic, as superintendents prove conclusively that there really are four rooms in what appears to be a supply closet. Finally, one day, you will find your dream home. The next day, you will resign yourself to the fact that you will never, ever, be able to afford your dream home, and settle for the one place on your list that didn’t include both cockroaches and rats.
Step 2: Packing
Once you have signed the lease (a story unto itself), you get to go home and try to fit your entire life into small, liftable boxes. This assumes, of course, that said boxes are readily available, which of course they are not. So, off to Provigo we go.
As inconspicuously as possible, hang out near the receiving dock. Whenever a shipment of bananas arrives, grab as many boxes as you can, dumping the contents if necessary, and run like hell. When you get home, fill your 500 boxes, one at a time, with everything you own. Then, go back and get more boxes. By the time you finish packing, not only will you be asking yourself if your partner is really worth all this, but you will also discover that you have packed the cat in a box marked “Shed.”
Unpack the cat, reseal the box, and take a long, hot bath. Unless the towels are already packed.
Step 3: The Move
The most important part of this step is timing. Know when to be on the phone, in the bathroom, or, if all else fails, in a coma, so as to minimize your actual physical involvement in the move. Endear yourself to the hairy man driving the truck, so that despite his claim that, due to an old sky-diving accident, he cannot do any heavy lifting (defined as “lifting anything heavier than your credit card”), he will not only maneuver your queen-size mattress up three flights of stairs, he will also deliver the mattress to the actual bedroom.
Note: if you plan to start your move at, say, 10 a.m., reserve the moving team and the truck for 9 p.m. the previous evening. Remember to call to confirm, preferably several times a day for five weeks prior to the moving date.
Step 4: Unpacking (optional)
Once the movers are gone, taking with them the last of your cash, not to mention the last of your beer, you may be operating under the impression that the hard part is over, and you can now relax and enjoy your new home.
Keep in mind that there are two of you now, and that the one thing you forgot to consider in Step One is whether or not the love of your life has any taste whatsoever.
To keep tension to a minimum, try to discuss things ahead of time. This way, you won’t be surprised when he converts the kitchen into a mini-laboratory, the living room into a “state-of-the-art” home entertainment centre (which means, incidentally, using a tape measure to position the couch precisely, relative to the six speakers, two of which were originally part of Stonehenge), or the bathroom into a scale model of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.
Now that you’re all moved in, find the cat, fix yourself a nice martini, and relax – until next year.