Speeding up

I thought I was going to enjoy a relatively leisurely week here in Crimson City, but
it turns out that: (1) I got the approval for the apartment in the condo building (good); (2) the condo building does not permit any moving on weekends (bad. goddamn frickin' condo policy); (3) the moving company needs me or a representative to be there when they deliver my paltry belongings; and (4) I have exactly three business days to spare before I am going to be all consumed by my job and will not be able to hang about my apartment waiting for movers; but (5) hello, my lease starts on Monday, Oct. 1. Shit.

Thanks the sweet baby Jesus for this one, though: after several slightly panicky phone calls to the super, the management company and my landlord/lady, everyone agreed it would be fine if I moved my stuff in on Friday. Mr. and Mrs. Date Tree are still going to be there, but they sweetly said it would be fine for me to move in a few boxes. (I tried to make them understand that it was more like 10 boxes, 7 storage containers, 2 suitcases, 2 tables, and several bags of various sizes and shapes, but I'm not sure they understood. Oh well.)

Thus, I am either (1) going to have movers get my stuff on Thursday, fly/train out Thursday, and receive on Friday; or (2) if the estimate is beyond the $3,000 I can get reimbursed from the firm, I will get a moving van, load my shit up, and drive it down to New York on Thursday, park it overnight, and move it into the apartment on Friday morning.

To make everything even more glorious, I lived about 10 blocks from the UN, which is holding its General Assembly this week, causing multiple street blocks and re-routes just around my neighborhood. Lovely.

Is it because I leave things to the last minute? If I had found a place earlier, maybe I wouldn't be pulling shit together like this -- slightly panicked and all dependent on the forces of the universe smiling on me for two days.

Fortunately, I exercised this morning for the first time in two months, and I feel able to deal. I really do need to get an elliptical or something for the apartment. It's remarkable how different I feel when I'm getting regular amounts of exercise. Without it, it's so easy to slip into the low-grade depression that constantly hovers on my mental-emotional horizon. I have been feeling moderately terrible the past few weeks due to a draining apartment search, an excruciatingly stilted phone conversation with the Scientist (why did I pick up? why why why? and why does he want to have lunch with me? go away!), and general dread about the upcoming Start of Corporate Robot Whoredom. But today, things seem a little brighter. Onward and upward.