So my Boyfriend (“B”) and I decided to move in together about a year ago. We found a perfect house with lots of character and in a really great location. What happiness! I will call this house First House.
Then we decided that we wanted to save money and we somehow convinced his parents to let their grownass child and his grownass girlfriend move into their house. This is our story.
We emptied our house by first selling a bunch of stuff on Kijiji because who doesn’t want someone else’s crap? Our experience has been that all people want all the crap so things have been going pretty good with respect to B’s semi-entrepreneurial, buy-and-sell spirit. After we had sold a number of things we were feeling pretty good about ourselves. Downsizing! Shaking off the cobwebs of First House! Onward and upward into the land of Hardly Any Financial Obligations!
Apparently it did not really matter that B had made such efforts with his Kijiji side job because by the time we actually moved from First House to B’s parents’ house, we were surrounded by Stuff. I don’t know what exactly the Stuff is, but there is a lot of stuff in our Stuff.
Our Stuff was all put into the Basement. The Basement is a normal basement, with a normal amount of room available when people think that their grown-ass children are going to carry on in their grown-assery. They didn’t know we were going to come knocking on their door begging for cheap rent, weeping about the weight of my student loans and the nervous breakdown I was going to have unless I found a way to save some money.
So our Stuff is in the Basement. In the left-hand side of the Basement are two twin beds. B and I thought the best thing to do would be to push the beds together to make one Big Bed. The beds were pushed together and lo and behold they’re not quite the same height. This is ok. The Big Bed was formed and all was well in the Basement where we had the Big Bed and our Stuff.
Part of our Stuff that I forgot about is all my Clothes, and I just want to say right here on the record: screw you, Emily. Screw you and your materialistic ways. All those shirts you thought were so pretty during law school are actually just stupid. I sat on the Big Bed on Day 1 and I was surrounded by our Stuff and my Clothes, which predominantly comprises roughly 316 shirts.
We had decided the best thing to do was wash all our laundry before moving to B’s parents’ house. But we apparently also decided not to fold it in advance because it would be better to have all the clothes separate and wrinkly so that when we got to B’s parents’ house we could fold it all because that is the best housewarming gift of all. Folding 316 shirts.
Before we started with the folding we thought, let’s put the mattress on the slightly uneven Big Bed. We have a really great mattress and what makes it even better is the memory foam! A piece of heavenly green super foam that was prepared by God and sent to earth. I just knew that with the powers of the mattress and the memory foam combined, the slightly uneven Big Bed would be just fine. Better than fine. Perfect.
Together we struggled, B and me – bendy from yoga but apparently overall just completely weak – awkwardly to get the mattress onto Big Bed. We accidentally put the mattress on sideways and we were laughed, like oh how silly! It needs to go the other way!
Off the mattress came, with B and bendy, but pathetic, me, clumsily maneuvering the thing. We turned it to put the mattress on the right way and…the bottom end was hanging out over the end of Big Bed’s footboard. The mattress did not fit. No amount of manipulation worked, no amount of pushing and pressing and praying worked. The mattress did not fit.
We turned the mattress and placed it in between the headboard and the footboard of the Big Bed so that our bodies would lie parallel to the headboard and the footboard and our heads would be on the slightly higher part and our feet would be on the slightly lower part and to the left is an empty space of box spring we call “No Mans’ Land” where one can put a cup of water or some folded laundry if one needs to do so.
So I sat on the Big Bed, feet resting in No Mans’ Land surrounded by my 316 shirts all of which needed folding, Interstellar playing in the background because it’s my favourite movie and it calms me. I looked around the Basement, glancing at our Stuff which was just everywhere and thought to myself, as I folded yet another of my stupid shirts, “I think I’m a crazy person having a lucid moment”.
Stay tuned. Part 2: A New Duet Partner will be here soon.