Sunday, July 02, 2006

The Day That Was The Day...

So here's the story. It's probably not going to be as detailed or interesting as it was this morning, but that's not really my fault so suck it! (Sorry. I really do love you guys. It's been a long day.)

The movers came. Even though we had arranged delivery for monday or tuesday as part of our contract, they told us that that wasn't possible. Maybe if we gave them more money up front they could try and get it on a truck that was heading south on wednesday and it would get there sunday or monday. Ok, we said. They said they would call us and let us know that night. Well they called and informed us that our stuff would be there friday. Friday was the day our friends Laura and Eric were getting married. If no one was here in Atlanta to greet the movers, our stuff would be returned to Philly. In order to get it back to Atlanta at that point, we would have had to pay the freight from Atlanta to Philly and back again, and probably wait three weeks for it to get there. So Dr. SOB skipped the wedding and left for ATL on thursday afternoon. Instead of having three and a half days to clean and ready ourselves for the moving, we had about 36 hours. Luckily Sam's aunt Allison was there to help us, or we would have never gotten out of there in one piece. Here she is enjoying a nap in Sam's gymni. The babe and I ended up staying at Carrie and Marcello's from thursday to saturday, along with every other person we ever knew. I was kind of like a slumber party that we crashed and then took the good bed. Things were ok for us in Philly, but the movers had arrived in Atlanta on friday and there was some bad news. Tons of stuff had broken, and other stuff was missing. For example, the microwave cart thing that we kept our booze in arrived in 7 pieces instead of 1. And the seat cushions and 1 back cushion from our couch never arrived so now it looks like this:



And the living room/dining room area in the new place was smaller than just our living room in Philly, so the seats-8-comfortably dining room table we bought last January wasn't fitting so well. The Dr. was not a happy camper. That night I went to the wedding while Allison babysat and had a grand time.

Saturday rolled in and we got ready for our flight, which was at 5:05pm. Dr. always makes fun of me because I like to go to the airport balls early when I'm traveling. This time I decided to be less neurotic since we were flying out of the commuter terminal and things usually run pretty smoothly there. We got to the airport at about 3:50, and even thought I checked online before we left, the flight had been delayed until 6:20. There was a flight to Atlanta with seats available that was departing at 4:00, so I ran to the gate. Of course it was at gate F39, the last gate in the terminal. Just as I rolled Sam to the gate I saw it pull back from the jetway. So we waited. And waited. And changed gates. And sat on the dirty airport floor to breastfeed because not one single fucking ass hole in Philadelphia would offer a nursing mother a seat. And waited. And changed gates again. And breastfed on the floor again. (Side note: the only person who offered us a seat in the airport was a 70 year old lady. Chivalry is dead.) We finally boarded the plane only to find out that there were 35 flights ahead of us for take off. We had secured an aisle seat, which I prefer as I am a bit on the tall side. In the window seat was a young boy, maybe about 3 years old. His mother was sitting in the window seat in the row behind us. She asked me if I would switch seats with her, and because I am a mother now and also generally a nice person I did. My cosmic reward for this was a seat with a broken recline button. Not that airplane seats recline all that much but Jesus H. Christ are you kidding me? Luckily, Sam slept most of the flight and the guy sitting next to me only got to see my boob once or twice. We landed in the middle of a lightening storm, so we weren't allowed to de-plane for 15 minutes after we parked at the gate. After getting the bags and getting home, it was about 1am.

There were horrible storms for two days in Atlanta and our roof started leaking. Then the dryer broke. By monday I was ready to jump off the roof. Now things have started to calm down, but I think the baby is teething because he won't sleep for more than an hour and a half at a time. The chinese food here sucks. On the bright side, Elton John and Big Boi are our neighbors. I'm hoping to get pictures of them shopping at Publix and sell them to the Enquirer for big bucks. Wish me luck!

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2 comments:

Susan said...

My heart and head ache for you guys right now. If you need me, I'm here (and I'm "in"... and chances are I'm up! so call!!!). If there is anything we can do from this end, let us know. And if you just need me to fly out there to start busting some heads, say the word. I'll bring my own pillow so I can sleep in the gymini...:)

Amy Jo said...

I would love to see that! Maybe I'll start a series of photos of people (and pets) sleeping in the gymni...maybe it'll be my big break!