Moving Moments

This past weekend, Sean and I packed and moved all his stuff to my apartment. Anyone who's ever moved or helped someone move might understand the horrors that the previous sentence implies, but for those of you who haven't, or if you are a hyper-organized freak-of-nature, read on with my compliments.

It was Easter weekend- you know that wonderful spring holiday filled with Ham and Chocolate, walks in the park and R&R. Except for us of course, who happened to be trapped in our very own self inflicted hell.

Ok, okay, I'm being a little over dramatic. It actually wasn't that bad- Sean, like me, is not a pack-rat, and we managed to pack/get rid of everything from Friday to Sunday. We packed dozens of boxes, carried them down to the lobby ("Oh, uh, Hi Mr. Security Guard, no, we're not moving... yes, we know we have to give notice... uh, we're just, uh, transporting some boxes.") crammed them into my Mazda Protege, drove the 35kms (1 hr drive) to my place, unloaded, drove back, rinse and repeat.

Our very last load was at about 3pm on Sunday afternoon- plenty of time to get loaded and unloaded then over to my parents' place for dinner. It was a very big load- Sean wasn't quite sure it would all fit, but I had faith in my shuvementa gifts. We piled box after box into the back seat (the seats were folded down) using every spare square inch of space, then shut the doors and opened the trunk. This is where things went sideways.

A few months ago, I locked my car keys in the trunk, and found out the hard way that my trunk release is broken. Ever since, when I open the trunk, I place my keys on the inside rim of the trunk, because you couldn't possibly shut the trunk with the keys there, right?

I placed my keys on the rim, we filled the trunk fill to the brim, we looked around to make sure there were no more items to go in, and... I slammed the trunk shut.

Well, it would appear it is possible to slam a door shut with a big wad of keys right in the middle.

We pulled, we pried, we swore, we laughed and finally we just stared at the mess we were in. The car was packed and ready to go, but parked (in a no parking zone I might add) and locked and not going anywhere.

What ended up happening was Sean rammed one of his fingers between the car and the trunk lid and managed to just tap the unlock button attached to the keys. I opened the doors and started unloading... all the bloody boxes out of the back seat, then out of the trunk, through the backseat. When everything was empty, I crawled through the backseat into the trunk and pulled the emergency release. Hurray! The trunk was open!! And as I slid out of the trunk, the seat of my pants caught on a hook... and tore a big hole in the ass of my jeans.

Let's just say, it was not on my weekend 'to do' list to stand around loading a car with boxes in a no parking zone with my ass peeking out of my pants, but alas, I did it anyway. I'm just glad we were both able to laugh our way through it.