Memories of changed plans for changes

The Facebook “Memory” at left told me something I’d forgotten: My plan for moving to Hamilton didn’t go smoothly. It wasn’t an awful thing, though the actual move was very close to that. That same FB “Memory” reminded me about that, too.

I didn’t know it at the time I made that post on January 3, 2020, but my actual move-in date would be 12 days after I took over ownership, not the five I was planning on. That was because the moving company was all booked the week I’d wanted to shift, something I didn’t know four years ago yesterday because, like a lot of NZ companies, their office has been closed for the Christmas/New Year holiday.

I found out the new date on January 7, 2020, something I know because I blogged about that day, which, it turns out, was also the day I signed the paperwork to complete the purchase. Back in 2020, I never shared the graphic from January 3 here on the blog, and while I have no idea why I didn't, it was probably just because I was busy with so much at the time.

I decided to shift out of Clarks Beach on my birthday, which, I quickly found out, was a colossally stupid idea, not the least because I hadn’t understood that the company wouldn’t deliver my stuff to the new house until the next day, even though Hamilton isn’t that far from the old house, maybe an hour and a half in those days before the Waikato Expressway extension opened.

Things went bad because on the 20th, they sent ONE person to pack up the house, and not the crew they were supposed to send. Packing a house takes a crew an entire day, something I knew because Nigel and used movers to pack up two different houses before we shifted.

So, because one person couldn’t get much done—and I couldn’t help because their insurance didn’t cover anything I packed—it took all day on my birthday for the packing crew to finish, and then to load the truck. They didn’t finish until it was getting dark, so unloading that same day was impossible. The truck was kept at their depot overnight. I got to Hamilton after 9.30pm the night of my birthday, well after the family that gathered to help celebrate my birthday had all gone home. I mentioned those details in a post a few days after my 2020 birthday. These things, too, were raised back in my mind again because of that January 3, 2020 Facebook post.

At the time, I was too emotionally fragile to do or say anything to the company, though I was getting increasingly grumpy as the move-out dragged on. Because I’d already had a major meltdown before they got there on the final day, I knew it was possible I may have flown into a violent rage if I’d complained to the company, but mainly I simply knew there was no point: The result was inevitable after they only sent one person on the 20th, and nothing I could say would change that.

I know too well how awful the move-out was for me, but I’d forgotten how different my expectations on January 3, 2020 were from what actually happened. That’s what’s good about having social media posts and this blog: I can know the path the events of my life took, and because I can, that means I have more clarity about where I’m headed—wherever that may be.