At my dad’s helping him move. Stepmom has had a month to pack. Decided that Monday would be a good time to start, but only a few hours. Started to scramble last night, as movers were here at 9am. My dad and I have been busting our assess since Saturday morning. Pissed that while we’re cleaning/boxing/shrink wrapping she’s in a recliner stuffing her face, or sitting out back smoking cigarettes and eating popsicles. I fucking hate cigarettes.
Anyway, a moving truck shows up this morning, a 26’ one, since anything larger can’t navigate the tight turns to get here.
Notice I said “a”. There were supposed to be TWO. Only half the stuff got loaded, and they MIGHT be able to send the second truck tomorrow. That’s great. We have to be at the new house tomorrow for delivery of all the stuff that got picked up today. How would you like us to be in both places at once? ?
Up until the drivers/movers are about to get ready to come here it was two trucks. At the last minute someone changed that to one truck.
Been on the phone trying to find out who made that executive decision so I can rip them a new asshole large enough to drive the truck through.