So I had the Salvation Army scheduled to come pick my furniture up from the old beach place for the last 6 weeks. I took off work as they could only give me a 4 hour window; either morning (8-12) or afternoon (12-4). And then early Monday came around and they cancelled the pick up. Three employees had called out and they needed to reschedule for 5/11. Except I had to turn the keys in and do a walk through w/landlord no later than 5/3. FML. I called my ex (who was getting the security deposit back) called my friend with a van, people were trying to see if they could help. I walked out by the water and my new neighbor asked me what was up.
Within 15 minutes she had secured a truck which was being driven over. She hopped in with me and we met my ex at the beach property to clear out the rest of the stuff. He had been busy cleaning and disassembling things which made it easier. Truck guy made out with some tables and a huge smart tv. Another helpful neighbor took my bed and frame, and the walk through went off without a hitch. The entire thing took less than an hour. I thought I would be gutted and weepy; instead it felt good to tie everything up in a neat little bow.
I can’t tell you how lucky I feel to have landed in a community that looks out for one another, similar (in theory) to the one I left. In typical fashion there’s part of me that’s waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop; like things just can’t be this zen and seamless-what’s the catch? But I’m trying to quiet that voice and just go with it.