Good morning, campers! It's Groundhog Day!
I will let this Bill Murray classic serve as the backdrop for the post today (on a number of levels, this just works), for today has the potential to be a glorious day. This morning, I sit, literally, at the window, watching for a large truck to come down our street. This Friday will mark 6 months since we saw our apartment roll away on a truck, 5 large boxes sitting still in a row, upright and attentive like the first day of school.
We've been told that the truck with our container has left the customs station at the airport and is actually en route to our house. In one final kick in the teeth, however, the shipping agent informed Ginger this morning that although the shipment can be delivered to our driveway, there must be an official customs agent present with the shipment, so that they can 'cut the tape' and the containers can be opened.
Ah, bureaucracy. How you laugh at me and spit in my face.
If you haven't yet picked up on the touch of exasperation we have been feeling, then peel back the layers of sarcasm. There, you'll find us, waiting for our stuff. Someday, I'd love to go to the relocation company's files and see if I can piece together the route that our container took to get here. That'll be fun. I'll see it changing cargo boats 3 times, and I'll wonder what they really meant when they sent emails talking about the 'steamship' that is traveling with our container.
Yes, they said steamship:
We were told it would arrive before Thanksgiving. Then it was December 1. Then it was definitely by Christmas. Then it was the first week of January. And, well, today is Groundhog Day. Fitting, isn't it. Not exactly like we've been waking up again and again, re-living the same day, but you see where I'm coming from. (Disclaimer: I reserve the right to be a bit over-dramatic today in this post, so bear with me.)
We've been told that the truck with our container has left the customs station at the airport and is actually en route to our house. In one final kick in the teeth, however, the shipping agent informed Ginger this morning that although the shipment can be delivered to our driveway, there must be an official customs agent present with the shipment, so that they can 'cut the tape' and the containers can be opened.
Ah, bureaucracy. How you laugh at me and spit in my face.
If you haven't yet picked up on the touch of exasperation we have been feeling, then peel back the layers of sarcasm. There, you'll find us, waiting for our stuff. Someday, I'd love to go to the relocation company's files and see if I can piece together the route that our container took to get here. That'll be fun. I'll see it changing cargo boats 3 times, and I'll wonder what they really meant when they sent emails talking about the 'steamship' that is traveling with our container.
Yes, they said steamship:
I don't know about you, but I have this image of Mark Twain and Abe Lincoln shooting the breeze as they pilot some gargantuan barge down the mighty Mississip'. Steamship? Really? In 2012?
I don't want you to think that all of this waiting has been without its benefits. Far from it. We have, as you'd imagine, adopted a certain 'less is more' approach to our living situation, which has been really liberating. If you've ever opened a Dwell magazine and seen impeccably clean homes with designer furniture and bright colors, all tidy and perfectly placed, with an occasional inhabitant of such home wandering through the shot, then you have some idea of our place (minus the designer anything, that is).
I always wonder where all the actual living material and people stuff gets shoved when the Dwell people compose their pictures. But I digress...
So. Here we wait. At last. Or, at least, with less than a week to go. As it goes with many things here - believe it when you see it.
(Pictures to follow, if anything really shows up.)
I don't want you to think that all of this waiting has been without its benefits. Far from it. We have, as you'd imagine, adopted a certain 'less is more' approach to our living situation, which has been really liberating. If you've ever opened a Dwell magazine and seen impeccably clean homes with designer furniture and bright colors, all tidy and perfectly placed, with an occasional inhabitant of such home wandering through the shot, then you have some idea of our place (minus the designer anything, that is).
I always wonder where all the actual living material and people stuff gets shoved when the Dwell people compose their pictures. But I digress...
So. Here we wait. At last. Or, at least, with less than a week to go. As it goes with many things here - believe it when you see it.
(Pictures to follow, if anything really shows up.)
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