Hey everyone, welcome back to the saga! This chapter is a mixed bag of farewells, frantic planning, and a culinary catastrophe that I still can’t quite believe happened. So grab your metaphorical fork (you might need it later), and let’s dive in!
First off, Saturday was dedicated to a final pilgrimage to my old stomping grounds. I managed to catch up with some friends, and even convinced Jenn to join me for an impromptu sleepover. Of course, not everyone was available, but overall it was a successful trip down memory lane.
The highlight of the day? Definitely witnessing some good-natured chaos at The Breakwall. Two guys walked in, prompting the bartender to joke, “Oh no, trouble is here!” Then a third, named Chestnut, joined them, and the bartender quipped, “Now we’ve got all three stooges here!” Naturally, I had to get involved. After ten minutes or so of no shenanigans, I told Chestnut I had been expecting some bar-top dancing or something, but so far, nothing. He chuckled and told me to wait. Ten minutes later, one of the “stooges” spilled something and was trying to clean it up himself with a mop he’d grabbed. That’s when it clicked. “Okay, now I get it,” I said, and we all had a good laugh. Sometimes, the best entertainment is the unplanned kind.
Sunday was a whirlwind of activity. Jenn helped me wrestle with the laundry situation, since I’m unable to bring it up and down the stairs, and I started packing for my New Jersey Thanksgiving roadtrip. Samantha stopped by for coffee, which was lovely. She’s still recovering from a fall, and while she escaped with just bruises, it sounded pretty rough. Wishing her a speedy recovery!
Then came the moving company debacle. I called to confirm, only to find out they didn’t have my date available. Cue the panic! I immediately enlisted Dave to find a new moving company. The moving gods were clearly testing my patience.
Monday was all about damage control. I scheduled an estimate with another moving company for Wednesday morning, crossing my fingers that they’d be the answer to my prayers. I also had my last haircut with the amazing Cicily before the move. Saying goodbye was tough, and I’m trying to convince her to visit me in Saba, scissors in tow, just in case of a hair emergency.
Tuesday was a classic case of “work is work.” Annoying and crazy busy, but I powered through and logged off at 5 pm with a sigh of relief. Samantha and Andy swooped in to help me with some last-minute tasks, which was a huge weight off my shoulders. After a quick pharmacy run and a chat with Dave in Saba, I finally had time to write.
Wednesday started with the movers coming for an estimate (fingers still crossed!). During lunch, I ran to the glass shop to get plexiglass for a broken frame from our vow renewal. It had been hanging without glass for the better part of two years, and I needed the plexiglass to ensure safe transport. Work flew by, and I was ready for a relaxing dinner of hot dogs and beans (I am not a chef).
That’s when the real adventure began. I chopped up the hot dogs, cooked them, grabbed the can of beans, and… discovered my can opener was packed. STYMIED! So, I did what any reasonable person would do: I Googled “what to do with pre-cooked hot dogs without a can opener.” The internet suggested mac & cheese. Sounded… interesting.
Big mistake. Huge.
The combination was less than delightful, to put it mildly. My appetite has been wonky lately anyway, probably due to all the stress, so maybe it was just me. Either way, it was a culinary disaster.
The plot thickened later that evening when I was telling Dave about my tragic dinner and noticed the expiration date on the mac & cheese package. It was WAY expired. Like, ancient history expired. Mystery solved!
So, there you have it. A week of farewells, frantic planning, helpful friends, and a dinner I’d rather forget. Wish me luck with the movers, and hopefully, next week’s chapter will be filled with more positive updates (and edible meals!). Until then, stay tuned!