I’m in the throes of packing. We load this house up in 23 days. As the sole packer of the family, it’s a big job to tackle. I’ve gotten rid of loads of stuff. Goodwill, Varage Sale, you name it, I’ve used it. I’ve wanted to have less clutter, so moving to another state merely fueled my desire.
I’ve gone and bought boxes a few times already. I’ve found that on average, Home Depot is the cheapest for the nice heavy duty boxes. So, despite feeling like crap last week, I drug the little one with me after I picked her up from school to buy more boxes.
I loaded the cart up, determined to have a few days go by without having to buy more boxes. After the self-check out attendant helped me scan everything, I started walking out to the car. The wind was crazy and I was having a hard time maintaining my grip on the cart while also keeping the little one from darting from behind the cart into oncoming traffic. Finally I made it to our car.
I unlocked her door, while holding the cart which was blowing all over the place. I popped the back hatch and started unloading the extra large boxes. Immediately I realize they barely fit in the back because of my BOB stroller that is taking up half the room. I keep pushing and jamming the large boxes, which keep sliding out, while also trying to put some of the medium boxes in. As I go to grab the last few medium boxes, a Disney-esque gust of wind grabs the two small boxes and off they go. Both boxes are flying all over the parking lot. In different directions. I stood with my mouth hanging open, while the boxes in the car started to slide out around me. Then the cart took off. By itself. At full speed headed toward the opposite end of the parking lot.
So I’m cussing, screaming and on my knees trying to push the boxes up into the car while attempting to close the hatch. They keep sliding out around me and eventually I’m nearly laying under the back of the car. My thinking was that I wasn’t low enough. That was clearly the issue. Finally I slam the hatch, only onto my arm (I have two lovely bruises) and then a second time it actually latches when I slam it.
Then I take off running, first after one swirling box, then the other. Still cussing and screaming. Two separate Charter vans are parked in the far end of the parking lot. Where the cart is still heading. Both are occupied by drivers, who are both staring right at me. Watching. Not getting out and offering to help, or grabbing a flying box. Just staring.
The thing that made me the angriest (because I did yell at the vans once I retrieved the cart) was that it wasn’t like they were laughing, which I would have excused. I get that. I laugh first and offer help later, I can’t help it. I’m defective. Laughing hysterically would have been fine, but they weren’t. They were just staring at me. So I get the cart and try to drag it back, wind still throwing it everywhere, while holding the two small boxes.
I get back to the car, thankfully my sweets was actually buckled in and decide I better put the two small boxes in the back seat along with the tape and mattress covers I had purchased. No sooner than I opened the door the cart nearly slams into my pretty-new vehicle. Luckily, I was able to stop it right before it hit the side of it. More cussing. I closed the door and while still cussing put the cart into the cart return. Damn the wind.