TV

5 Feb

We’re going back.  Back to Christmas Eve 2014.

Our television broke. The picture slims down to a tiny horizontal line in the middle of the screen. It’s very unfortunate, because Cool has a TV. 6 hours away at her mom’s house. I also have a really fancy TV. A huge, flatscreen–my parent’s former TV. In storage. . . 14 hours away. And we are moving in less then 2 years.

As such, we didn’t want to go into debt at Christmastime to get a new one. But we need something. That’s my one relaxation. Over to Craigslist. FLAKESlist. Cool was in charge.

ornery face

She informes me she found a nice, functional one, for $30. But (there’s always a BUT on Craigslist) the people she was talking to actually had it at their parent’s house, and they had to see when it was convenant for their parents to set a pick up. Turns out that day was Christmas Eve. At 1 PM. Well, I had agreed to work until noon that day, which always turns into about 12:45-1PM.

And of course work did run late, which I expect. And is why I try not to plan things until at least 2 hours after expected closing time. If at all, because after work I’m tired. And usually grumpy–due to work.

And this is how Cool operates: When we were almost finished with work (12:35PM?) I picked up my phone expecteing to see a text from Cool making some sort of adjustment to the pick up plan–we were going to be late. But nothing. So I texted her–maybe she would meet me at my work, because that was closer to the loacation? Nope, come home, it’s fine.

I get home at 12:55PM. We are already going to be late. And Cool? No shoes on. AND she hasn’t lokked at the address, a map, or programed directions into the GPS/phone. This is normal Coollie-style. I’m freaking out, as my style is all anxiety/stress/lateness-phobia.

We drive around. We get lost. Finally, Cool calls the people. We are LATE. I’m unhappy and grumpy and tired and exasperated. Neither party is any good at conveying directions, so the Craigslist people agree to come to where we are, so we can follow them back home.

We get there–and the guys were really nice. But 5(!) men loaded this TV into the back of Cool’s HHR. And it barely fit. I’m thinking: 1) If people were there to load it, why did I have to be involved at all 2) It sucks that Cool neglected to remember cash so I had to pay 3) Where are we going to put that–and how will the 2 of us ever get it up the stairs?!

We pull up to the bottom of the stairs at home. Cool takes one side and I the other. We have less then half the manpower that got the TV into the car, and a verticle to overcome. Cool starts taking slow, tiny steps, and I’m telling her, “Go faster, it will be over faster if we hustle. Use momentum!” But any momentum we had was lost. We made it up 1-2 steps before Cool turned shaky and red in the face and started yelling in frustration. I was like, “Shhhh, shut UP the neighbors will hear [you can hear everything through the walls] and DON’T drop it!” She set her end on the step, leaving me with the bulk of the weight. And I heard metal crunching sounds.

So I told her to come below and help me push. We would have to roll the TV end-over-end up the remaining stairs. Magically, it worked. At the top, Cool went to park the car and I finished lugging the TV (probably double my weight) into the apartment, and across the room.

The first thing that I notice is that this new TV is just as big as our largest piece of furniture, the entertainment center.  We have Wal-Mart cheap furniture, just to get by before we move.  I have some nicer, more substancial pieces. . .  In storage.  I’m thinking–there is no way we can set heft this TV onto any furniture because the furniture will be crushed.  Cool says, “Maybe I should have measured,”

Welcome to my life.

 

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