The Move

So there I was, living in Toronto. It sucked. So I decided to move on back to my old stomping grounds, about 2 hours away. It was the week of April 11^th and I had just finished getting the details of the move all set out. My mom and dad were gonna come down on May 1^st and help bring my stuff back. This worked well into my plan since there was a record show in Mississauga on April 17^th that I was excited to go to since I’d never been to a record show before. A convention hall full of vinyl records seemed quite awesome to me.

So ok, 2 weeks and I’ll move back home. Then a couple days later my mom emails me; ‘your dad’s truck may not be ready for the move. Also, his knee hurts and he can’t use the stairs much.’ Well… ok then, I guess my parents aren’t gonna help me move after all. But my mom asks me for my resume so that once I move back I could possibly get hired at her work rather quickly. So I send her my resume and then go about roping one of my friends into helping me move. He agrees, and luckily May 1^st works well for him so I’ll still be around to go see this record show. Then it is the 15^th of April, a Friday. I get a text from my mom saying that she handed in my resume to her work early and they expected me to be in for orientation on the following Monday. I call her and ask a few questions. She offers to come down Saturday to help me move back so that I’d be back home in time for this orientation. I explained to her that I wanted to go to a record show that Sunday. So we agreed that after the record show on Sunday I would take a bus back home and stay there for 2 weeks and then I’d come back on May 1^st with my friend and we’d move all my stuff. Alright.

So I woke up early that Sunday and went to the record show. I’ll leave that tangential story for another time. Suffice to say it was an alright time. But I wanted to just get home so I left early, got my bag of clothes and left for the bus station. I get off the streetcar to walk down to the station and I hear something drop. I look down and sure enough I see my cell phone lying in a puddle. I picked it up, wiped it off and hoped for the best. When I got to the station I went to get a ticket at the booth. I asked when the next bus was leaving for my particular destination and the woman said only one bus was going there that day and it left at 7:00pm. It was 3:00pm when she told me.  I took the ticket and sat down in the lobby-esque place there… for four hours. I tried to text my mom, but the phone was going haywire. So I had to pay $5 to make a call to let her know what was going on. So then I waited. And while I waited I decided I could at least enjoy some music from my iPod. So I turned my iPod on and it was at this moment that my headphones, which I’d had for at least 4 years, decided to start dying on me. The wire was loose and every time I turned my head to the left the music would cut out. Great. So I sat for 4 hours with no music, a water-drenched cell phone that wouldn’t properly work and a crappy selection of reading materials. Bleh. So the bus comes, finally. I get on and sit down in the very back, away from everybody. Thankfully, nobody sat near me. I hate sitting close to people on public transit. But on the way home I still had no music. So it was a massively boring ride. But eventually, after being dried out, my cell phone agreed to work again, which was a nice win for the day, if only slightly.

So I get home late Sunday night, go to sleep, wake up Monday and go for orientation at this place and then start my job. I work for the next 2 weeks. I spent those 2 weeks sleeping in a very cold room on a very small, kinda uncomfortable cot with very little of my own belongings. But then we went and got my stuff and now here I am telling you this story for no reason at all.