Pain. Suffering. Pain.
Where to start...Sunday sounds good.
Sunday afternoon was visited by RA. She came to discuss smelly carpet (AKA piss carpet). She said she would bring a higher-up-authority person to check out the damage at 9 PM.
I say "okay."
RA mentions that she can't smell anything bad.
Door closes.
I spent the next four hours worrying that the smell has magically disappeared. I make excuses to put papers in the recycle bin in the hall, so I can leave the room, come back and sniff around.
At 9:45 PM, RA arrives with higher-up authority figure.
Worried for nothing. They detect smell.
Smell has become worse in bedroom. Take them in there. They seem shocked by horribleness that is the smell. Am told that my carpets have become a "priority" and RA will be in touch.
End Sunday.
Monday. Phone service and furniture delivery expected.
I get up at 6:45 on the off chance that the furniture will be delivered early...see, no matter how much of a pessamist I am, I can't kill off that little bit of optimism. Around 10 AM any hope of an early delivery dies and I become bored with being stuck in apartment.
Watch seven Buffy episodes.
4 PM furniture arrives. No, not furniture. Delivery men come to door. One looks like a potential rapist. He doesn't look happy to see me. Bad attitude. He says I didn't pay to have stuff delivered into my apartment. Can tell he doesn't want to bring stuff up.
I inform him, that I need the furniture to be brought up. I do like to think of myself as a strong independent girl, but am not an idiot. I can not possibly lug an apartment's worth of furniture up three flights of stairs alone.
Potential rapist goes away for awhile to make phone calls.
Phone repair man arrives. All seems to go well with him. I am slightly annoyed that his work involves the phone lines inside the apartment as that would mean I'd be charged for his time.
Potential rapist returns. Cannot give me my furniture. He seems slightly more pleasant, having the knowledge that he doesn't have to move my furniture (and you know, do his job). He complains about Ikea (from here on out--as accidentally called by dad-- to be known as "Icky-a" due to all the trouble they have caused me). He then complains about how he will have to manuever around all of my stuff for the rest of his deliveries.
I silently decide the Potential Rapist is also an alcoholic and think that he needs to stop complaining.
Potential rapist tells me to call delivery company to reschedule. He says he'll see me in a couple of days. I silently and sarcastically think "great."
Delivery men leave with furniture. So close, but so far.
Phone man finishes up. Says there will be no charge, since the work only took him a few minutes. Consider hugging him, but don't. Instead inform him that he has saved the day.
Phone man than notices new TV. He begins listing off its features and overstays his welcome. The only contribution I could possibly make to discussion is the same contribution I made during the decision process to buy said TV: "Hmm," "Ah," and "It's pretty and silver. It will match compy."
RA arrives to inform me a man will stop by tomorrow to look at carpet. I don't have to be there. Okay.
I use new-wonderful-working-phone to call furniture delivery company to reschedule/pay to get furniture placed in actual apartment. Am transferred to Icky-a. I speak with Scott. I explain situation. He reshedules drop off for Wednesday. I say "thanks" and hang up.
Think. Wait a minute. That was too easy. Scott didn't ask for credit card info. Scott didn't hear a word I said. I begin to fear that furniture drop-off now scheduled for Wednesday will be a repeat of Monday.
Call Icky-a back. Wait five minutes through recording to speak with actual person. Unnamed woman is nice. I tell her my story. She puts me on hold a couple of times. I handle it all well...only once allowing the woman to become vaguely aware that I'm being driven mad. When there is finally no more confusion, she puts me on hold one last time to inform delivery department of changes. She comes back on the line. It's 5 PM. The person we need to speak to has left for the day. Must call back tomorrow. Thank woman for her help. She gives me direct extension needed for Tuesday's call.
Curse Icky-a and die.
Go to school, get parking permet and photo ID, etc.
Try to get online. Compy won't get online. Curse world and die.
Tuesday (today)
Wake up. Icky-a opens at 10. Start calling them then. No answer.
Knock on door. Carpet man and nameless-woman (assumed to have even more authority than last authority-possessing woman). They say new carpet should come in sometime next week. Should only take one day...if takes longer, they will arrange for me to spend a night at the Gatehouse. That's nice. Am informed RA woman will be in contact with the details later. Okay.
Try Icky-a again. Still nothing.
Leave apartment to do stuff. Forget wallet. Return to apartment. Decide to try Icky-a again, because I like pain.
Reach an actual person! Like other nameless woman of yesterday, she is nice. I tell her abridged version of story. She is as shocked at delivery company's behavior, as I was. But she then says extension is wrong. She says she will go to another office and asks me to try back in five minutes. Okay.
Wait.
4 minutes, 30 seconds later, I call.
Busy signal.
Try again.
Busy signal again.
Try again!
More busy signal!!!!!!
TRY AGAIN!
Phone rings.
I cheer.
Continue conversation with woman. She says it is Icky-a's fault. And there won't be any extra charge. I think that's the least they could do.
Am told to call delivery company and reschedule.
Do so. Am apologized to...delivery scheduled for tomorrow. I'll postpone the happy dance until furniture is in apartment (at which point, I'll have to assemble it all).
I have decided, that once I'm finally moved into this apartment, I will never leave again. Ever. I can't handle all these moving complications again in this life.
Go to campus. Make sure have wallet. Arrange to have a small meal plan to ensure starvation is not in my future.
Get online at library. DSL hookup still not scheduled. Compy may never see the internet again.
And that brings us up to now.
Hungry for lunch.
First class is tonight.
