Master plans

Master plans are funny in that I like to pretend that I actually have control over my life and that I am actually indeed, master of my own life plans and stress. Yeah. Hee-larious. So, a quick update.

I was going to go up to my new place around August 1st to drop off applications for jobs and such.

My last day of work was going to be August 8th. (Work is very, very sad to see me go and several people won't even talk about my move or me leaving. Ah, feel the love.)

I was planning to move out of my current place the weekend of August 10th.

Grad school starts August 20th. Thus giving me about two weeks to settle myself and find employment, de-stress, become acquainted with the new surroundings and of being far from home.

Oh, wise readers you see where this update is headed? That's right. I made a Master Plan and the gods laughed and called me foolish.

My current landlords called and left me a message last Tuesday, the 26th, asking if they could show my apartment to a property manager because, and I quote, "my place is always so cute, clean, nice, and tidy..." after a quick scan of my apartment there wasn't anything cute, clean, nice or tidy about my apartment as I hadn't really been home and I had already started to pack and throw things out. My apartment was more in the, "hurl, throw, toss, disheveled" state. I call and leave a message as such and also give my notice stating I will be out no later than August 12. That would be six weeks of vacate notice. I didn't hear anything so I thought I was golden.

Oh, dear wise readers do you see the foreshadowing?

Yep. With my rent envelope that was in my door on Friday (that would be three days after my message) there was a note that read...and I quote: "FYI, you can only give notice on the first of the month. If you can give notice on July 1st and then you have until July 31st to vacate. If you give notice on August 1st you have until August 31st to vacate. There is no rent refund unless your apartment is rented during that time."

...and let the fuming begin. I received her note after 7p.m. on Friday. A.k.a. past any time when I could do anything about the vacate date. I fumed all day Friday. I let it go on Saturday. (See previous post.) Let it go for part of the day on Sunday (see previous post and add in a hang-over.) started to re-fume about it Sunday night and most of yesterday. When I say "fume" I mean, stress. What the crap-oroni am I supposed to do? I can't move to my new place, I can't leave work early, I am NOT paying $1200 in rent for the month of August (rent for both places.) And yes, I know. Just look at my lease agreement, right? Excellent point. Here's why I can't. About two weeks ago, in my little pro-active state, I went through all of my important papers and threw them all out. I put them in a (HUGE) paper sack to burn. I still have the (HUGE) paper sack, but what was an organized mess is now just a (HUGE) mess and I haven't been able to go through the sack of papers and the clock is ticking for me to give my notice.

Finally around 2:00 yesterday I called The Mom.
I will move home for two weeks and then move to the new place. Yep. Lucky me. I get to move twice. Twice within two weeks to be exact. My five weeks has magically turned into three and everything that I was doing at a leisurely pace has gone into warp speed and my plan for a stress-less transition, yeah. The gods are laughing. I am now moving out on the 28th and again on the 11th.
My plan to drop off job applications around the 1st to beat the rush of other applicants has been 86'd as I will now be moving. (Who needs a job? Green backs? Bah! I laugh at your paper money!)

Oh, just for shits and giggles, there is a super-major tiff going on with my step-siblings and my mom and step-dad. (See previous post where step-siblings leave in a huff and I am glad about it.) Basically something that should have been dealt with 10+ years ago with a band-aid is now in hemorrhage mode and imploding all over the place. Yah! I get to move home and be in the middle of it for two weeks during one of the most stressful times of my life...yah!

Why is my life stressful? I am currently: Working four jobs. Yes, four. (technically I have five, but one is currently on hiatus.) Taking two classes, and trying to move. Trying to move to a new apartment, new city, new school, away from the family and trying to sell, pack, and throw-out as much as I possibly can.

Ouch. My chest just clinched. I think I need to throw another rocket into a tree and drink more beer and say, "Pretty" when things explode. I.E. tomorrow.