Worst laid plans

"James took the job in Wisconsin," I told Carol during one of our weekly calls. "I'm so happy for him."

Then I paused and added, "This is probably just me dreaming, but I hope he asks me to help him move. I would love that so much."

A few days later, I got this text.

I was delighted, but played it cool.

I let him do a little more persuading.

Then I was all in, planning routes...

and making suggestions.

As the departure date drew near, my excitement turned into anxiety. Part of that was Emma related.

Emma with the toy I bought her at the Denver Dog Fair

Mostly though, I was worried about James' preparations, or lack thereof.

Let's be clear, James is a great kid and one of the smartest people I know. He can do calculus in his head the way the way most people do arithmetic. That said, there are whole classes of things he's at which he's less adept. Rather belatedly, it occurred to me that trip planning might be an issue.

After an anxious night's sleep, I asked Seth, "What if he hasn't reserved the moving truck? What are we going to do?"

As it turned out, that was not the problem. 

Seth and I got up bright and early on departure day and made the one and a half hour drive to James' apartment.

From our text conversations, I knew James was not entirely packed and ready to go. However, I assumed he was at least close-ish. 

I was wrong.

I was so very, very wrong.

Seth and I took one look at that apartment - the posters were still on the walls! - and knew James and I wouldn't be leaving that day. Instead of driving to Omaha, we pivoted to an all-day, all-night marathon of cleaning, packing and purging.

Did I mention this was a third floor apartment? 

After eighteen hours and at least fifty apologies, I told James it was okay. Things happen and we would get through. 

"However," I added. "I am absolutely going to roast you on my blog."

He nodded and said, "That's fair."

At the twenty hour mark, we conceded defeat. There was no way we were going to get all that stuff into the truck. James called 1-800-got-junk and scheduled a pick-up.

Those guys were so great. Not only did they get rid of all the extra stuff, they also brought donuts and helped us finish packing the truck.

Twenty eight hours after my arrival in Loveland, we were finally packed and ready to go.

No one has ever been so glad to move out.

We grabbed the animals, climbed into the truck and headed out to Wisconsin.

To be continued.