Back At the Brickhouse

I'm back home!  After the entire month of April at The Unsellable, my condominium in Vinings, repair on the house has finally progressed to the point where I could move back in.  The movers picked my stuff up yesterday and delivered it back here to this pile of bricks on a hill (where they had picked it all up on March 30).

Funny story - after they unpacked the van, one of the movers approached me with a pained expression on his face and admitted that they left a piece of my bedframe back at The Unsellable, and therefore they couldn't reassemble the bed.  I told them that was impossible - I had made a sweep through the condo before we left and confirmed that everything was gone.  Perhaps they left it outside next to the van as they were staging my stuff for the trip back? He was as sure that didn't happen as I was sure it wasn't still inside the condo.

But we travelled back anyway to make sure, because where else could it be? And they were correct - it wasn't outside near where the van was parked.  And I was correct - it wasn't inside The Unsellable, either.  What the hell?  Where was it?

We drove back to the house again, and I looked at the frame carefully.  It was all there after all. The frame consists of three pieces, and the mover's sense of symmetry may have expected four pieces.  We quickly assembled the frame and mounted the springs and mattress, and the movers went on their way.

What I didn't expect as I settled back into the house was to find all of my shoes in the shower stall.  The contractors had replaced the bedroom floors, including the closets, and the shoes must have been in their way.  But what really confused me was why someone saw fit to run the shower and soak the shoes, as well as the hand-crafted leather shoulder bag I bought from a craftsman in Tuscany back in 2003.  And it didn't appear that they were just accidentally spritzed for a second or two - not only was everything still soaking wet, even though the contractors finished the work Tuesday morning, but the floor outside the stall was wet and the shower head was still dripping.

Several of the shoes were ruined.  A pair of black Merrill slip-ons were so mildewed that appeared to be white (and they stunk to high heavens).  My REI hiking boots have certainly gotten wet before while out on the trail and should probably survive, and I wiped down the leather shoes before they got any worse, but really?  Who turns a shower on when the stall is full of shoes and other personal belongings? What's wrong with these people?  

 

But still, I'm home.  I have television once again, and cable access, and a high-speed internet connection.  A new roof over my head.  A new bedroom floor beneath my feet.  I just don't have as many pairs of shoes as I used to.