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WHATa WONDERFUL day
Dec. 20th, 2001 07:51 pm... modem decides to die again, due to line noise.
Ppl probably piqued at me for seemingly being tempermental and disappearing off of the face of aim.
Unable to resusticate modem, I go back to bed.
Wake up 30 min later to go with dad since it's grandpa's big move day to the old folks apartment (NOT a nursing home, altho they do have professional nurses on call).
Dad borrows $2.40 for parking ticket to 9:58am since he has no change.
The four+ hours of back-breaking begins. I cannot describe my joy at not having had breakfast yet other than a softbroiled egg and coffee.
First, before the movers arrive at 9am, lots of dusting and Dad complaining the movers are late.
I give dad a small suggestion to treat them to pop (there were cans of 7up in the fridge).
After the movers arrive at 9:15, it's me sitting downstairs watching the pile of stuff accumulate and making sure no one walks off with anything. At 9:30 dad comes down with the 2nd elevator load.
"Go buy a newspaper, the time'll run out! Get at least $3 of change and buy a ticket for that amount of time*!"
*for those who're wondering, downtown toronto's taken off all meters and replaced them with ticket dispensers. You pay a set amount (about 10cents = 6min) for a ticket and stick it on your dashboard.
So off I go, huffing and puffing.
I buy the paper and run back and pay the ticket for up to $3 out of my own pockets. When the movers go up for the 3rd load, I go up with them to give dad the paper (he wanted it, chinese daily news).
Dad begins bitching about how long it's taking and how they charge $45 by the hour, but reminds me that it's THEIR job to do the moving so don't help them. Riiight.
I go downstairs, and start helping to shorten the time. They got these little wheeled pull-planks to help move stuff, but some stuff are too strange (like floorlamps) to load on them. The elevator fits 2 ppl and 3 loaded planks and misc. small stuff at a time. I help with the small stuff so they're saved one trip and us some time.
After a near miss in which a box of too highly stacked books falls off a plank, I decide to help. Especially as they got to the kitchenware. -.-;
When I go upstairs for a drink, guess what dad asks me to do?
None other than bring 3 cans of 7-up downstairs as refreshments.
Of course, it's all his idea.
There's only 2 elelvators at the complex where gramps was due to move in.
The movers take a loooong time cuz the elevator they borrowed was slow.
I use the time well in unloading EVERYTHING I can budge off the van.
On the 2nd last trip up the elevator, crisis ensues.
Someone got stuck in the elevator - the OTHER one - on the 5th floor.
The manager takes the elevator back, since it's lunchtime and all the old folks want to get back to their rooms from the cafe.
In the waiting, I spend the interval rearranging everything loaded so that we could do it in TWO trips. (dad thought there'd be 3. HAH)
.... and after all that, we managed to do it 10 mins after 2, which means we only have to pay for 5 hours, rather than 6 if it went past 2:15.
And guess what's the most emotional thing dad says to me?
It's to yell at me for being an idiot for doing things when it was oh-so-clearly-the movers' responsibility.
It's to yell at me for having NO eyes when we went shopping for bread (we sold out) and I had problems getting $1 back from the shopping cart. Someone didn't park the 2/3 of the rows very well - one's had the metal child seat back stuck inbtw the bars of the first, so I couldn't get my in. The other someone swiped a SMALLER cart from eaton's. So there I was, hungry and starving without any lunch other than a can of V8, wrenching the cart to the 3rd row.
And gets my head bitten off by dad for not seeing there was a CLOSER batch of shopping cart parking.
.... I didn't cry.
You know, what's really ... depressing is that, is that all I wanted was a word of pride, of compliment from him.
..... so, in a pissed mood tonight, when this really annoying old lady came to photocopy (she always HAS to give the reason why she's buying/photocopying/needing whatever 3-4 times before she tells you exactly what it is, and it takes her more than an hour to sort thru the shopping bags she carries to do ONE photocopy), I got into an argument with her.
She went out yelling and calling our store the scum of the earth and tried to hit mom with her umbrella and somehow it's all my fault.
.... and yes, this is a pretty regular day except for the exercise in moving the stuff.
Ppl probably piqued at me for seemingly being tempermental and disappearing off of the face of aim.
Unable to resusticate modem, I go back to bed.
Wake up 30 min later to go with dad since it's grandpa's big move day to the old folks apartment (NOT a nursing home, altho they do have professional nurses on call).
Dad borrows $2.40 for parking ticket to 9:58am since he has no change.
The four+ hours of back-breaking begins. I cannot describe my joy at not having had breakfast yet other than a softbroiled egg and coffee.
First, before the movers arrive at 9am, lots of dusting and Dad complaining the movers are late.
I give dad a small suggestion to treat them to pop (there were cans of 7up in the fridge).
After the movers arrive at 9:15, it's me sitting downstairs watching the pile of stuff accumulate and making sure no one walks off with anything. At 9:30 dad comes down with the 2nd elevator load.
"Go buy a newspaper, the time'll run out! Get at least $3 of change and buy a ticket for that amount of time*!"
*for those who're wondering, downtown toronto's taken off all meters and replaced them with ticket dispensers. You pay a set amount (about 10cents = 6min) for a ticket and stick it on your dashboard.
So off I go, huffing and puffing.
I buy the paper and run back and pay the ticket for up to $3 out of my own pockets. When the movers go up for the 3rd load, I go up with them to give dad the paper (he wanted it, chinese daily news).
Dad begins bitching about how long it's taking and how they charge $45 by the hour, but reminds me that it's THEIR job to do the moving so don't help them. Riiight.
I go downstairs, and start helping to shorten the time. They got these little wheeled pull-planks to help move stuff, but some stuff are too strange (like floorlamps) to load on them. The elevator fits 2 ppl and 3 loaded planks and misc. small stuff at a time. I help with the small stuff so they're saved one trip and us some time.
After a near miss in which a box of too highly stacked books falls off a plank, I decide to help. Especially as they got to the kitchenware. -.-;
When I go upstairs for a drink, guess what dad asks me to do?
None other than bring 3 cans of 7-up downstairs as refreshments.
Of course, it's all his idea.
There's only 2 elelvators at the complex where gramps was due to move in.
The movers take a loooong time cuz the elevator they borrowed was slow.
I use the time well in unloading EVERYTHING I can budge off the van.
On the 2nd last trip up the elevator, crisis ensues.
Someone got stuck in the elevator - the OTHER one - on the 5th floor.
The manager takes the elevator back, since it's lunchtime and all the old folks want to get back to their rooms from the cafe.
In the waiting, I spend the interval rearranging everything loaded so that we could do it in TWO trips. (dad thought there'd be 3. HAH)
.... and after all that, we managed to do it 10 mins after 2, which means we only have to pay for 5 hours, rather than 6 if it went past 2:15.
And guess what's the most emotional thing dad says to me?
It's to yell at me for being an idiot for doing things when it was oh-so-clearly-the movers' responsibility.
It's to yell at me for having NO eyes when we went shopping for bread (we sold out) and I had problems getting $1 back from the shopping cart. Someone didn't park the 2/3 of the rows very well - one's had the metal child seat back stuck inbtw the bars of the first, so I couldn't get my in. The other someone swiped a SMALLER cart from eaton's. So there I was, hungry and starving without any lunch other than a can of V8, wrenching the cart to the 3rd row.
And gets my head bitten off by dad for not seeing there was a CLOSER batch of shopping cart parking.
.... I didn't cry.
You know, what's really ... depressing is that, is that all I wanted was a word of pride, of compliment from him.
..... so, in a pissed mood tonight, when this really annoying old lady came to photocopy (she always HAS to give the reason why she's buying/photocopying/needing whatever 3-4 times before she tells you exactly what it is, and it takes her more than an hour to sort thru the shopping bags she carries to do ONE photocopy), I got into an argument with her.
She went out yelling and calling our store the scum of the earth and tried to hit mom with her umbrella and somehow it's all my fault.
.... and yes, this is a pretty regular day except for the exercise in moving the stuff.
