We Didn't Move In

We didn't move in to our new house over the weekend and I am so tired, annoyed, spent, and tired again.

On Friday I stopped in to pick up the key, do a walk-through, and drop off a carload of stuff we'd been collecting from Target and Kohl's throughout the week -- new towels, shower curtains, that sort of stuff. I stopped in the leasing office, got the key, and drove over to our new parking space. I unlocked the door, admired the new flooring, and smelled a familiar, but unwelcome, smell. Cat pee. Pet odor, to put it politely. In the newly renovated condo we were leasing, they failed to rip up the old carpet and replace it with something less smelly. I went back to the leasing office. They said they'd clean the carpet that day and it would still be ready for moving in on Saturday. I wasn't optimistic. But I was tired of living in our hotel so I let myself believe that it would be possible to still move in on Saturday morning. And if it wasn't I'd stay at my dad's for a couple days and/or check into a different hotel if it looked like a long-term necessity, a hotel that was closer and more convenient to where we need to be.

On Saturday morning my mom came to the hotel to help Muffin and I finish packing our things and load them into our cars. Friends and family members gathered at my dad's house to await word from me as to whether they should start loading our stuff from his garage into their pick-up trucks.

We arrived at the condo and it still smelled. Back to the leasing office. There wasn't much they could do about it on a Saturday but they would rip up the carpets and we would be credited the rent for the days we're missing to next month. We drove to my dad's which is about ten minutes away. Muffin was riding with my mom so I took advantage of being alone to cry in my car. Mike was doing training all weekend and was out of touch. I felt horrible that I couldn't keep my promise to Muffin of finally having a real house to move into after about six weeks of transitory living. I imposed on friends and family members who had now wasted a Saturday morning. And I just wanted to unpack my suitcase and not have to pack it again for a long time.

Now, we have a cat, and while she's good about using the litter box, I can sympathize with having a cat who is not. Our cat is staying with my mom, not moving into the condo with us right away, and I refuse to move into a house that smells like someone else's pet. And when given the choice of a newly remodeled unit or a non-remodeled unit, we decided to pay the extra money per month for the remodeled one. I expected the carpet was going to be ripped up and replaced before the condo was deemed acceptable for us to move in to. I should not have found this problem the day before our move-in date. It's so frustrating.

I scrambled with phone calls on Saturday afternoon, rescheduling two deliveries and the cable guy that were due today. Today the leasing office should be calling me to say if they're starting on the carpet today or tomorrow. We should be able to move in within twenty-four hours of them starting; they do the job in one day. I'm hoping for Wednesday night in our new home, even if only our beds make it over there and we pick up the rest of the stuff from my dad's garage piece-meal over the course of the following days.

I wanted to be moved in this week. Muffin starts school next week and I wanted the time for her to adjust to a new home before starting a new school. She's being such a trouper and what makes me feel the worst over this whole experience is how much I'm asking of her to cope with things that most three-year-olds don't have to cope with. On the school questionnaire that asked if there are any issues the school should be aware of, I had a rather lengthy answer explaining our living situation and how she keeps talking about wanting to go home to Hyderabad. And when she's talking to herself she's started lapsing into Hindi. She has dentist and doctor's appointments this week and I still need to do some back-to-school shopping and plan lunches and snacks. This was supposed to be our back-to-school prep week and now I'm cheating Muffin of all that attention because I still have to focus on moving.

Mike will be home for the weekend and I am so looking forward to it.

Re-entry Notes

1. High-speed internet is so awesome I can't even talk about it.
2. It's not shorts and flipflop weather every day in New England. I have to check temperatures and dress appropriately. Long sleeves? Socks?
3. Is it important for me to know who people like Snooki and the Kardishians are? They seem to be everywhere yet I can't figure what they do exactly.
4. I can only spend a maximum of twenty minutes in a large store, like Wal-Mart or even Stop & Shop before I get a headache. Too much stuff! Too many choices. I need toothpaste. There are literally a hundred different options.
5. Speaking of large stores, I'm also overwhelmed by large parking lots. And how they are mostly empty these days.
6. A good hotel is also so awesome I can't even talk about it.

Catching Up

Last night, about a week after leaving our little studio hotel room for a two-bedroom apartment, we found ourselves crammed into one room. Me in bed reading, Mike at the desk online, and the cats dozing nearby. So why did we upgrade to a bigger, better apartment if we're going to continue all living together in one room?

Oh yeah, because now we live in Georgetown and it's so much better than Falls Church. There's stuff to walk to! Metro stops, restaurants, post office, Dunkin Donuts... the possibilities are endless.

We are just beginning to feel settled here. The day after we moved in Mike's mom arrived and we accompanied her on a road trip to Roanoke for a couple days. Then Mike headed north to spend some time with his brother and friends in Philly and New York. Last night was only the third night Mike has spent in our new digs. I spent my time alone scouting out the neighborhood but by yesterday I was so incredibly bored. I wanted Mike back to show off all the stuff I discovered.

Now he's back, but had to go to work this morning of course. And I'm bored again. And it's raining. And I'm bored.

We're moving again

We get antsy. And we are at the point where we hate our hotel room. It's nice enough, but we're sick of it. It's a studio and after 3 months it's driving us both crazy that we can't close a door and get some alone time. The other person is always there. And the cats. Oh the cats! They are driving us crazy too. The smaller the living space, the more we have to listen to their shenanigans all night long. Plus, this northern Virginia suburb has nothing to do unless you want to eat out at chain restaurants every night. We like to walk places and we can't walk to a darn thing from here. Our souls have been sapped.

So we are moving to two-bedroom suite smack-dab in the middle of D.C. We feel we deserve some nice digs for a few months before heading off to Africa. We've always wanted to live in D.C. rather than Virginia. We'll be able to walk everywhere! And the weather's finally getting decent enough for walking without bundling up and looking like a Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man.

We have a busy week ahead of us as we figure out how to check out of one place and into the next in one day, making as few driving trips as possible, while Mike's at work all day long. We need to get a storage unit for storing stuff that we'll need in Africa but not D.C. We need to weed out the winter clothes that we didn't actually wear this winter and drop them in a clothing bin.

(And finish our taxes. Oh, and Mike's mom is coming down for a visit next weekend. And I wanted to get B-52s and Cure tickets. So much to do!)

On moving day I'm going to have to drive in D.C., which I've never done before, and I think I'm more nervous about that than driving in Africa.

A Little Vacation

Due to the noisy high-powered fan that's not really drying the carpet as quickly as everyone hoped (see previous post), we were given a second room to sleep in last night and for me to work in today. Our room is so damp and musty smelling now, I wonder if we should move in to this new room permanently. It's like being on vacation! It's just like our old room, only uncluttered with the stuff you collect when you're living somewhere rather than staying somewhere.

We've Sprung a Leak!

A little over an hour ago I heard some dripping sounds. I half ignored it, thinking it might be someone's tub or shower and I noted the time in case it was still happening an hour later. I started thinking that we've lived in this room for two months now and it doesn't sound like someone nearby using the shower or tub. But I didn't want to be an alarmist and call in something that wouldn't be a problem.

About 30 minutes later I was on hold with our insurance company, pacing the floor, when I stepped in a patch of wet carpet. Okay, time to call the front desk as soon as I get off hold with the insurance company. Waiting, waiting... the wet patch is spreading. Cripes. Finally I talk to an insurance person and she straightens out that problem. (I'll receive a notice in 30 to 45 days to find out if the proper action was actually taken.) Now time for the next problem. I hung up my cell phone with one hand and picked up the hotel room phone with the other and urgently made my plea to the front desk.

Someone from the maintenance team popped in, felt around the floor, heard the dripping, and said, "It's dripping." (If he wasn't George Takai, he had to have been his twin brother.) A few minutes later the dripping was still going on... so they didn't turn off the water, which would have been my first step. A few more minutes go by and a second maintenance guy shows up with a handful of towels. They prove to be not that effective in wiping up water from carpet. So he leaves and comes back later with even more towels. As he's trying to sop up water from the carpet a third guy comes in (who is the regular guy they send to our room--we've had a handful of problems here) with a giant wet-dry vac. Yay, power! He starts sucking up the water and then the first guy shows up again with another wet-dry vac. Our regular guy tells George Takai that he'll take it from here. 

Our regular guy spends a few minutes sucking up the water, then says he'll be back with a giant fan. While waiting for him to get back with the fan, Mike comes home to find the room in damp disarray. He hadn't gotten my voice mails. But he was glad our regular guy was on the case. When he came back with the fan they chatted a bit.

Now the industrial fan is blowing and I'm contemplating finishing my work with the wireless Internet in the lobby.

I Was Going To...

I was going to finish cutting out the muslin of a jacket pattern tonight, but Grendel has other plans.


I cut out a couple pieces this afternoon but then got busy with working, napping, and a pesky little necessity called eating. I didn't want to lay the fabric out and cut on the floor--I was trying to avoid cats stepping on it. The coffee table was the easiest flat surface to clear off and use. But it's small (the perspective is hard to judge in the photo because Grendel is so big and he likes to flatten out; he expands to the size of the surface he's sitting on). I have to cut pieces in small batches because I can only fit so many on the table top at one time. For the most part the cats ignored the coffee table all afternoon. But I woke up from a snooze and there was Grendel.

Mike's gone for a couple days, yet the hotel room still feels small.

I mentioned in my last post that I've actually been sewing. Photographic proof is here.

Cross-posting Love

I'm feeling a little lazy today. It's early. It's Friday. (Actually, I just realized it's not that early any more.)

I've been working on convenience foods for bentos and hotel living at What I Eat.

At Flaming Tulle our Featured Bride Ashley is working on a 10-week challenge so she will be an awesomely buff bride on her wedding day.

Here in HotelLand I'm working on applications for jobs in Burundi. They are few and far between. I'm hoping that my smattering of French gives me an edge on any competition. (Unless the competition is fluent in French. Then I'm screwed.)

Afternoon Sugar Break

I'm on my Afternoon Sugar Break right now. Some time between 2:00 and 3:00 every afternoon my sweet tooth says, "I won't be ignored!" I've been sitting and working for a couple hours. I'm getting stir-crazy in the room. It's partly too easy but partly great rationale that I can wander around the hotel and end up in the dining room. There, coffee, tea, and hot chocolate is available 24 hours a day, for free! I'm such a caffeine and sugar junkie, how can I resist? The hot chocolate is terrible, but I make it palatable with Coffee-mate French Vanilla creamers. (I hate that stuff in my coffee, but love it in hot chocolate.)

I wanted to kill some more time on my little walk, so I stopped by the brochure stand to get some ideas of what to do this weekend. There's so much that we didn't see the last time we lived here and there's so much that we want to see and do again. And I love brochures. I have folders stuffed full of them from places I've never even visited, but always thought that I might want to someday (like the next time I'm in Salzburg, I should definitely check out the Mozart dinner theater--the brochure says it's amazing!).

Anyhoo, this is what you do to amuse yourself when you work from home and your home is a hotel. I should try to get some work done now that I'm buzzing from the sugar.

Remembering Why We're Here

In our day-to-day routines of hotel living, it's easy to forget why we're doing this. Yesterday while voting for the Bloggies I discovered a charming site, Dotty Rhino. It's a site for children that teaches about Mkomazi, Tanzania, where endangered black rhinos and spotted wild dogs live. It's adjacent to the Tsavo National Park in Kenya and Mount Kilamanjaro is nearby. Seeing the adorable rhino on the front page reminded me that East Africa is our reward. Seeing these animals in person in their natural habitat, even possibly living side-by-side with some of them, is our reward. Escaping some of the self-imposed "problems" of modern American living is our reward.

When placed in the big picture, so many of the things I think about daily really are minor quibbles that don't matter.

Now: I'm out of half and half and it's too cold to walk a block to the store to buy more! In Africa: I'm out of half and half... do they even sell that here?

Now: In the produce aisle, organic or conventional? California grown or imported from Mexico? Hothouse grown? Hydroponic? In Africa: This is what grew. Buy it or don't.

Right now I'm trying to let go of some of those things that don't really matter. I actually have a lot of spare time here, and it's nice to get out of the hotel room, so I may as well walk to the store for half and half.

We Killed the Stainless Steel

Our hotel suite really isn't that bad as long as we make an effort to keep it neat and organized (and for us that takes a lot of effort). Housekeeping comes in every once in a while to take out the garbage and vacuum around the cats. There's a nice little bar along the side of the kitchen that I've taken over as my office.

There's a great international grocery store around the corner and I walked over yesterday to buy a few things. The produce there is phenomenal. I made guacamole, and every time I sliced into a new vegetable, the fresh, delicious scent was overpowering. We decided to make quesadillas last night, something that would be a tasty vehicle for the guacamole. (I'm trying not to complain there there's no oven here, thus making at least a third of my cooking repertoire obsolete.)

We heated up the cheap stainless steel frying pan on the stovetop. I place my tortilla in the middle and piled it up with cheese, beans, and yellow pepper. As the cheese got melty, I folded the tortilla in half, grabbed the spatula, and attempted to flip over the quesadilla. But the cheap plastic spatula also got melty. Yes, they provide a frying pan and a spatula but obviously don't expect you to use them, because they provide you with a spatula that melts as soon as it hits a warm pan. I was able to salvage the quesadilla by pushing it off to the side with my finger, away from the melted plastic. But the pan is ruined now. And boy did the kitchen (and thus the whole suite) smell terrible.

By this time Mike is practically hallucinating from hunger, especially after the guacamole scent finally overpowered the melting plastic smell. However can we finish making dinner? Easy! We invite over a friend who's staying in the same hotel and ask him to bring his frying pan. And we weren't quite as careful as we should have been, because by the end of the evening his frying pan had melted plastic on it too. But by then we had tummies full of quesadillas, guacamole, and sangria so it didn't matter.

Luxurious but Not Practical

I'm staying at a hotel that's a branch of the Hilton family tree. The staff is friendly and helpful. The bed is comfy. The lobby is an atrium with a tropical garden in it. The room is nicely decorated. The towels are soft. There are lots of little touches that point toward luxury.

But there are also a few things that point toward extremely annoying. First, I was exhausted when I walked up with all my luggage and no one was there to open the door for me. And it was a heavy, awkward door. After some mix-ups at the front desk, I get to my room, and the coffee table and dining table are so close together it's impossible to roll a large suitcase through to the bedroom. And the coffee table is too heavy to move out of the way. All the coffee they left me for the coffee maker was decaff. I called Guest Services for regular and they happily brought it up. But now all my regular's gone and housekeeping left me two packs of decaff again. The computer desk doesn't have an outlet nearby for plugging in your laptop battery.

Last but not least, the shower. You have to reach around half a glass wall to turn on the faucet. I have very long arms, and I'm still halfway into the shower trying to reach the faucet, getting a face full of cold water when I finally turn it on. After my first shower I stepped out onto a soaking wet bathmat. (And I was so tired and stressed out, because that was the morning that was the second day of the terrible packout, that I burst into tears.) There's a half-inch open seam down the middle of the glass, separating the glass door from the glass wall. Also, the seam along the bottom of the door is weak. Water leaked out all over the floor. On the plus side, they provide lots of fluffy bath towels, so I used most of them to cover the floor. On my second shower I realized I should open the door into the shower for stepping out in order to prevent even more water dripping onto the floor. On my third shower I figured out how to adjust the stream so water wasn't shooting directly toward that open spot. Yay dry floor! But there's still no way to turn on the faucet without getting a face full of cold water. I just don't get it. Sure it looks great. But I'd rather have plain-looking and practical, especially when I'm this tired.

I know I'm tired and probably over sensitive this week. But is it really too much to ask that I'm able to roll my suitcase across my room? Or plug in my laptop battery while using it at the desk? Or turn on the shower without a blast of cold water in my face? It seems like a beautiful room was designed and built into several thousand units nationwide without anyone giving them a test run for usefulness.