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Sep 11-15: More cushion construction and moving out of our apartment!
This week was completely and absolutely exhausting. Moving out of our small rental turned out to be an epic project. I was still in the University-student mindset, not cognisent of the huge amount of crap we had accumulated in our three years at 1591 Wright St. Sara knew how much work it would be, but I didn't listen to her. Mistake one!
Complicating the moving process was the destination: a third of our stuff was moved into storage, a third was moved onto the boat, and a third was moved into the garbage heap. Furthermore, we still needed to cut foam and batting and construct the new interior cockpit cushions. Sara knew how long it would all take, but I was wrapped up in boat projects. Mistake two!
The last straw was our timing. I guess this wasn't our mistake, but we should probably list it as #3. Ghilotti Construction apparently won a bid to tear up the street and mess with our lives. They started at 7AM each morning last week, totally blocking the street, impeding our moving efforts, and creating an obstacle of monumental proportions for the Salvation Army donation truck.
Sara's sister Amy just moved to San Jose, so we roped her into coming by for a visit. As soon as she got there, we put her to work!
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Amy hard at work
Sara working on the cushions
Messy living room!
Cushions off the assembly lineCutting foam and stuffing cushions took all week. Sorting stuff and putting it into boxes took all week. Pleading with the Salvation Army drivers took all week. Moving stuff into the storage locker took all week. Everything took all week. We worked ourselves to the bone.
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Mess!
Salvation Army load #1To load the truck with beds, dressers, bookcases, and boxes and boxes of our crap, we had to negotiate with the construction foreman and then drive the truck up onto the sidewalk. It worked, the construction guys turned out to all be very cool, but it was sometimes a bit tight.
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Third storage run
We got six more truckloads of stuff in hereThe storage locker we got is the cheapest one possible. $47/mo for a 5x10x13 locker on the second floor of a building without elevators. Perfect! We managed to fit two beds and boxsprings, a giant bookcase, TV hutch, and dresser, two tables, two huge wardrobe boxes, two bikes, two skis and a snowboard, and four other truckloads of boxes of crap.
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Negotiating the construction maze
Loaded for a garbage runOkay, let me swallow my embarrassment and tell you all a Stupid Will Story. So it's Friday the 15th, we have to move out, and I load the truck up with garbage in the morning. Work is crazy hectic, and before I know it, it's 5PM. The dump closes at 5PM. We're stuck - we need the truck bed to do a storage unit run, and then we need the truck to move the last load of stuff down to the boat.
So I drove around looking for an unguarded dumpster. Yes, I'm an illegal dumper. Wait, the story gets better. I find a dumpster and pull up beside it. I quickly throw my garbage in and take off. I call Sara and confess to feeling like a criminal.
Fast forward to Monday. I'm taking the day off work for our first test sail. I'm in one of the lockers at the back of the boat and my phone rings. It's work, so I answer. Renee lets me know that a guy named Dan found my garbage, and will call the Sherriff if I don't call him back right away. Good thing I answered!
So I call Dan. I apologize, I'm an idiot, I'll pay for it. Dan isn't impressed, and wow, that's a lot of money. I guess I'll come get my garbage. How does tomorrow morning at super-early AM sound? Wonderful.
Wait, the story gets better. So it's 7AM and I'm at the dumpster. Half of my garbage is already gone. Strange. I start loading the rest into my truck, and I get about halfway done when some guy walks up and looks at me quizzically. "Dan?" I ask. "Paul", he replies.
It turns out Paul is the property manager for the bank. The dumpster is in a bank parking lot. Can I pick 'em or what? Paul asks me what I'm doing. "Well, what does it look like? I'm taking garbage from this dumpster and loading it into my truck." Paul explains I have to leave because the bank insurance can't let me play in the dumpster. Wonderful.
As I'm driving away, I clue into the fact that Paul has no idea what I was doing there. Paul probably thinks I was dumpster-diving for bank information or something. I bet Paul's going to call the Sherriff! I no longer feel like a criminal, I now AM a criminal! I hope Sara will visit me in jail.
Everyone at work makes fun of me. End of Stupid Will Story.
Rewind to Friday evening. It turns out we didn't leave Santa Rosa, we couldn't get everything done in time, so we pushed the V-berth cushions together and made a little nest in the middle of the room. The cushions are soooo comfortable, even better than our box-spring matress that we stored.
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Cozy little V-berth nest
Coin exchange machineWe headed down to the boat on Saturday, but only after a quick stop at the local grocery store to convert all the spare change we had accumulated over the past three years. We recovered $120!
I think the weekend deserves another log entry. More later.