So, the guy who’s been living in the house the last month (the previous owner and now tenant) hasn’t exactly been inspiring confidence about his knowledge of the impending move. To wit, on Saturday he said to me on the phone, “Now, WHEN is it again that we’re supposed to be out of the house?”
As in, I’m-moving-into-that-house-in-six-days Saturday.
Right.
He said he’d call me Sunday or Monday of this week to confirm everything, and when I hadn’t heard from him, I decided to call tonight to check in. I’ve got all our utilities scheduled to be turned on Friday, so that was my excuse for calling.
I got his voicemail tonight, but he called back almost immediately (I didn’t hear my phone ring ’cause I was PACKING) and left me a message saying that they are currently about 90% moved out and will be completely done by tomorrow afternoon.
FAN-freaking-TASTIC!
This has shoved everything into high gear chez nous. Daniel’s pretty much been holed up in his office all evening, but I’ve packed (I counted) 19 boxes in the bedroom and kitchen, and am feeling immensely better about everything.
I wouldn’t go to work tomorrow and instead use the time to finish packing, but we have a staff meeting in the morning, so I’m going to head up to Denton for a quick half-day of work then come home around lunchtime. Another four or five hours and I should be able to finish up almost all of the necessary packing (all that’s really left is my office, which is about 1/2 packed and 100% sorted, the master bedroom, and a few miscellaneous things in the kitchen, along with about five boxes in the garage — piece of cake (HA)).
Daniel’s going to work on unhooking the speakers and entertainment center in the living room tomorrow afternoon, then we’re going to rent a carpet cleaner and head over to the new house to clean up ahead of the move. While he’s cleaning over there, I’ll scamper around doing last-minute chores, packing, etc. And voila! It will be time to move.
How exciting!