I am very annoyed with this whole "we're making you leave the apartment for three days and screw up your entire life" thing. They're paying us $125 each (or refunding the rent by $125, but I prefer to think of it as the former rather than the latter) to get out, but frankly, I'd forfeit the money to get to stay in my apartment this weekend.

Lots of crap regarding this went down last week, when I was gone. Heather did manage to make it to the complex meeting (amazing), and holy shit, they went over a lot that I have been frantically trying to catch up on since.

(a) Official kickout time tomorrow is 8:30, not 9. Not that this matters to me too much, since I'd be at work.

(b) You are supposed to remove anything edible and not factory-sealed from the apartment. I presume that's supposed to go in my spare house that I keep for occasions just like this. Barring that, they provide you VERY EXPENSIVE ($2/bag, or free, depending on who you talk to) bags to put your food into. They gave us nine bags, but guess what, you have to double bag. So it took one bag for the freezer, two for the fridge/alcohol supply, and one bag for the rest of my crap and the spice collection. I managed to get Heather another set so she can bag up her shit. If she shows up to do it, and so far she has been AWOL this night. She has to get back at some point for the cats, though.

Bagging is INCREDIBLY frustating, incidentally. Not to mention the piles and piles of trash that I had to haul out of the fridge that I just didn't want to deal with.

(c) We were supposed to get our checks for this debacle at 8:30 checkout time tomorrow. Okay, so we're supposed to be completely out of the area, and yet be hanging around for the money? I called to complain about this and got a "Well, nobody at the meeting objected." Did manage to get the check from the manager, though. Score.

(d) Even worse is PG&E. I found in the paperwork Heather brought back that you have to call PG&E to turn your pilot light/gas on oh, FOUR DAYS BEFORE FUMIGATION or else you can't get it turned on for a week. You'll note when I found this out. Even more fun, someone is going to have to cut work for half a day because someone must be there in person to handle the PG&E guy. Of course, that'll have to be me even though I've taken a ton of time off already because even if we schedule it for an afternoo Heather's off, who knows if she'd wake up for it?

I called. I got a "Huh. Twelve apartments getting it, eh? That's going to take days for someone to do. Someone'll call you tomorrow about it." Oh joy. I'd better not have to cook for volunteering on Monday. Well, nobody's told me I have to yet, so maybe I'm off the hook.

I have bagged all of the food except for Heather's boxed stuff, which as far as I'm concerned she can take care of. I am tired. And I took out a shitload of trash. And I still have to do the dishes. And I still have to pack. And scour the house for any random medication bottles and pack those.

Did I mention that I'm supposed to get rid of the mattresses of Hill's that she left on the patio that Dave never took out the way he said he would? Heather's boyfriend was going to do it, but who knows. I've gotten to the point where I don't fucking CARE.

And I still have to be around my relatives. Again. At least we're going to the fair on Saturday. And I shall have play money.

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