Several weeks ago, when mercury was in retrograde, Andrea and I made a reservation at U-Haul for one of their small trailers. The idea being that our belongings were not being delivered until sometime between the 13th and the 18th of March so the trailer would enable us to set up at home a bit until that happened.
I’ve had a hitch on our Subaru a while. It’s a requirement if you’re in a same sex marriage - particularly if you’re two women. But the day we made the trailer reservation, we bought a ball for the trailer.
Today, when I went to pick the trailer up, the guy asked, “Where’s your wiring for the trailer?”
“What?” I asked as he dug around.
“So the brake lights work - I can’t rent it to you without that.”
“Oh.” Shit.
Andrea frantically called AutoZone, Advanced Auto Parts, & Napa. I was on hold with the U-Haul in Northboro while they attempted to locate the wiring harness for the make and model of my car. We got lucky - Worcester had one. I drove to Worcester, picked it up, drove to my neighbors shop (R&L Automotive - give him your business and money) where he installed it for me. I then drove back to the Hudson U-Haul and picked the trailer up.
Meanwhile, Andrea took a break from shoveling dog shit out of the back yard to attend her farewell party. Shoveling dog shit - it keeps you humble.
I worked and kept one eye on the movers as we were instructed to do by the relo company.
We began loading the trailer while the movers were still loading the truck. Andrea realized that somehow, her keys had gotten misplaced. We alternated between looking for the keys and emptying the fridge, emptying and sweeping rooms. Then I announced that my lower back was killing me and I needed a break. So, here we are. Our final night at Parkhurst Drive. I recalled having spotted a random remote control in my work bag while on a conference call so I emptied the bag and found Andrea’s keys.
If anyone ever tries to tell you that moving with a full relo is easy, you should punch them in the face. They are lying to you.
Meanwhile, due to this goddamn Coronavirus, Massachusetts and several neighboring states have declared a state of emergency. The other night, I couldn’t sleep so I asked a half asleep Andrea, “How did the bubonic plague start?”
Andrea murmured that it had something to do with fleas. I googled “bubonic plague” and essentially, she was correct. But you shouldn’t google information about plagues when you can’t sleep. If you google “bubonic plague”, information on the Coronavirus pops up. So then I tumbled down a rabbit hole on the CDC website. If you haven’t been to their site to read up on the Coronavirus, I’ll save you the trouble. It basically says “we don’t really know but hey, we’re learning!” Which doesn’t really induce confidence or sleep.
When I was a kid, I went to a Lutheran school - 1st grade through 7th. Not the same school. Two different Lutheran schools. Anyway. That’s not the point. The point is that I came home from school or Sunday school once and told my mom we were learning about the “plogs.”
“The plogs?!” My mom asked - confused. She was super in tune with her bible back in the day but was not familiar with the plogs.
“Yeah. You know - with the locusts.”
“Oh! The play-gs.” My mom exclaimed.
Whatever. Hand washing will help you with this particular plog. Thank God we don’t have locusts. I hate bugs. So - I wash my hands like a maniac which dries them out and the more I think about not touching my face, the more I touch it. It’s a compulsion. Maybe I need to moisturize my face more? I’m convinced it’s itchy. But I may be imagining that.
Thank you Chris and Terry for giving us your Corda-Roy when you moved to Florida. It’s our bed for tonight.
Alarm is set for 3 AM. I found a 24-hour Dunkin’ Donuts in Marlborough. First stop.
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