“You need to be out of your apartment by 5:00 on Monday.”
That is what a string of emails I received over the weekend told me. Too bad I had class on Monday, followed by a nine hour drive! No way was I going to get out of there in time.
After replying with a string of emails trying to convince my RD of this, I finally got word back: “You need to be out of your apartment by 5:00 on Tuesday.”
Awesome! The catch was that I had to meet with one of two people to check out: either my RD, Kristin, or the assistant, Hayes. This HAD to be done before I could leave… and they both have very busy schedules.
There was not a chance I would catch Kristin. So, I went after Hayes. I text him and asked if he could check me out. (It’s difficult finding a good way to word it… it’s odd texting a man and asking him, “Could you please come check me out tomorrow? K Thanks.”) He told me he could on Monday… after five. I asked if he could do it Tuesday morning, first thing.
“No, sorry. Has to be Monday after five.”
Hmm. This was a dilemma. Checking out included giving up your key, which mean absolutely no chance of sleeping there another night after it was done. If I waited until five on Monday, it meant it was too late to hit the road for home, but I didn’t have a place to sleep.
Then, Monday morning I text him again, asking him if he could please check me out before five… around two, maybe, since we were tearing down after Ichthus and should be done by then. He told me he could do it in half and hour… or after five. Not in between. It was 11:30 am. We were about to break for lunch. I told him, “YES! I’ll be ready!”
I went back to the apartment, arriving ten minutes before Hayes was due. I packed faster than I have ever packed before- throwing clothes into suitcases, piling books into boxes, cramming items into my backpack, sweeping the shelves of the fridge clean and into the trash. Just as I ripped the sheets off of my bed and put the last of my things on the couch, Hayes knocked on the door. He walked in, looked perplexedly at the couch (is perplexedly a word?) piled with things, then proceeded to make sure everything was in order. He made me sign something saying I hadn’t broken anything, took my key, then very sweetly offered to help me carry everything down to my car.
After loading everything in the Klunker, I still had an hour left on my lunch break… and I was officially homeless. I drove my car full of things over to Kelsey and Elisa’s apartment, hoping to find someone home I could give my leftover mayonaise to. Kelsey was there! With joy in my heart, I gave her the mayo, cheese, and strawberry jelly I had had left over, and ate a couple leftover tortillas from Saturday night.
I went back to “class,” helped unload our large truck filled with cameras and cables and tarps and water bottles and monitors and loading pallets and jib equipment, then returned to Kelsey’s apartment where I took a fast shower, then hit the road just before 3pm… about 15 hours before I had originally planned.
It’s okay, though. As a result, I got home 15 hours early. Go figure!
I pulled in the driveway at midnight last night, carried my suitcase in, and found a note on the table that said,
How precious is that?