|Monday, May 21st, 2001|
12:23a - things that break
Well, I was *considering* writing a really really long entry here, but now that I think about it, it's actually quite boring, a lot of it. Plus I'm using a @#$% ergonomic keyboard (so please pardon the bizarre typos - they're due to the bizarre kezboard lazout.) So I'll write a brief list.
Things That Break:
Old duct tape in humid weather.
More old duct tape in humid weather.
Scotch tape. (In humid weather.)
A cardboard box.
A cardboard box patch (mostly duct tape and scotch tape (in humid weather)).
Me. (there are apparently sharp things under my bed I was not aware of.)
The right gear shifter on my bike. (I think someone hit it with another bike.)
More duct tape. (At least it was relatively cool humid weather at this point.)
The first box I had packed, as well as most of the duct tape holding it together, though it was repairable. Although it's approaching Box Mummy status now, with all the white strips of sticky stuff holding it together. or trying to.
My door. Sort of. How on earth can it lock itself when I haven't locked it for THREE MONTHS? (Note that this is approximately half an hour before checkout.)
And, after I got on the plane . . .
The jetway. We couldn't get off - they had to move to another gate. No, I'm not kidding :P
Bah. Just one of those days, I guess . . . well, two of those days, actually, there was sleep somewhere in there between the elevator and my door.
Oh, and speaking of the elevator, I think I'll expound on that a little more.
So I go to the elevator to bring boxes down. Big boxes. With failing tape. (Okay, I'll shut up about the tape.) I push the down button. Ding. Doors open. I go inside and push 1.
I push it again a few more times. Still nothing happens.
Well, I go track down Syreeta - "hey syreeta, the elevator isn't working." So we go check it out. Push the button, ding, doors, go inside, push 1, doors close, elevator goes down. TV repairman syndrome.
I move boxes for a bit, then it stops working. I growl at it and tell Syreeta again. This time it succeeds in failing for her. She goes to call security (which apparently includes maintenance). I wander back to the panel - the doors are wide open and the "down" button is lit.
Waitaminute. The button is lit? The button *shouldn't* be lit . . . I hit it a few times. It flickers.
So I start thwacking the panel with my hand in assorted locations around the button. Eventually the button goes out, the doors start to close, I dodge inside and it goes down. Eureka!
Well, a few minutes later, it fails again.
This time it occurs to me - what if the loose wire isn't near the button? I punch the top of the panel. Click! The light goes out and the doors start closing. Aww jeah. Whoze da man? I da man.
The grand finale: I bring my last box over. There are a few people outside the elevator looking annoyed, and it's open and the light is on. I cart my box in. Somebody says "It doesn't work." I say "It just needs a little help." I thwack the right spot with my hand. Light goes out. Door starts closing. I dodge inside and go down.
Anyway . . . yeah. I somehow managed to pack my chair, even. THAT was impressive. Actually, the entire packing effort was impressive, and much of it would have been totally impossible if it wasn't for a series of fortunate coincidences.
I didn't have boxes. I planned to go down to the post office and get some. Well, Eli's parents got a few extra, much larger than the PO had, so I used those.
I filled them. Completely.
And it looked like I had just enough room for the rest in my bags. Woo!
And at this point, I realized I didn't have room for chair. Which I NEEDED. Panic! Wander halls looking for large box. Find ENORMOUS box.
Chair backrest does not fit in enormous box.
It does, however, in one of my bags! (barely.) (Which is why I have a chair part here at Claire's.) So I put it in there, disassemble the chair (an adventure in itself - my Phillips screwdriver did not work, the bolts were too large and had damaged heads. Luckily, my flathead fit perfectly, despite being Phillips screws . . . ) put the parts in there, and pack some more in. It was a really big box. I put more in and more in. Two blankets, even. Finally it was full and I closed it, then packed my bags.
What was left barely fit.
So: If Eli's parents hadn't gotten those boxes, I wouldn't have had enough room.. If I'd thought earlier about the chair, I might not have gone looking for such an enormous box, and I wouldn't have had enough room. If I hadn't *found* a huge box in the hall, up for grabs . . . I wouldn't have had enough room, and I woulda had to throw out the chair too!
Not only that, but the enormous box (barely) fit Rod. Dunno if the board will survive though. I left it in my dorm room behind furniture - with any luck it'll be left there. I'll drop by the room beginning of next year and see if it's still there :)
Anyway. I need sleep.
And I need to be CAREFUL. The Anti-Murphy seems to have been blessing me for the past few days, which means it's time for Murphy to start paying attention again . . .
Feh. Anyway. This has been an enormous post. Sorry for boring you . . . but even this is better than a play-by-play description ;)
(And if anyone wants to be especially nice to Brandon or Brandon's-roommate-whose-name-I-can-never-remember, they deserve it, for giving me a lot of help. And some tape that DIDN'T break. Which helped repair the enormous box.)
(And I'm at Claire's! woo!)
current mood: ultimo nanna grudly
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