Cawfee and Moving Day

6 Oct

This past Thursday I moved from Jerusalem, where I have lived for the past four years and moved to Tel Aviv.

Four years in Jerusalem is the longest span of time I spent in once city as an adult. This move felt like I was moving away from Home, again. Yet it was a move I wanted, no needed, to do for a long time.

Three years ago was the last time I moved apartments. It was my third apt in a year and a half and I made it into home. I had two very different and very wonderful roommates in that old apartment on Yehoshua Ben Nun.

It took me over a year to feel like that apartment was “my home” and not just where I lived. I feel very strongly about living somewhere that “feels like home”. It is not like I can just drive over to my parent’s house and wrap myself in that familiar coziness.

My new apartment with Stephanie felt like home in less than 24 hours of living here.

Lets go back to the day of moving….

I had arranged for the movers to come on Thursday around 9:30am (they were coming from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem) and I woke up at 7:30am after being up till 3 the night before packing. I had packed 4 boxes before Rosh Hashana and I had the rest of my apartment to pack. In the end I had packed 12 boxes, 6 suitcases, 2 duffel bags and two laptop bags.

Anywhoo- I needed to go get cash out of the ATM to pay the movers and I figured I’d have a problem with my account. Partly due to the fact that pre-Rosh Hashana my bank’s computer system crashed (hopefully not connected to the market mess out there) while waiting to transfer my $$ into Sheklaim. I have this wonderful bank teller in my bank who took my details and said she’d take care of the transfer once the computers were back up and running and low and behold two days later the $$ was shekalim and in my account.

So with my early morning errand completed I had time to grab a cup of cawfee at Aroma. I took it to go and hopped on a bus back to Yehoshua Ben Nun. Arrived in my soon to be empty apartment and sat down on my couch to think about this move. But of course me being a klutz I managed to spill my cawfee on the floor. Not on the boxes or suitcases but the little 1×1 foot of space without boxes.

Now three years ago on my moving day I spilled cawfee on myself but it was much worse. I made hot turkish cawfee for my 5 movers (yeah 5) and as I came downstairs to hand it to them on that chilly morning I slipped (here comes my klutziness), smacked my back on the stairs hard and spilled the boiling hot cawfee on myself. Yeah I have a scar from that move.

So it looks like every time I move I am bound to spill cawfee… As long as I know this I can make sure not to bang my back, burn myself or spill on my packed boxes/suitcases.

Stay tuned for Part Two: The moving truck filled with my stuff and the fire in the truck….

ps- the movers were incredible and ridiculously cheap. Victor’s movers: 052.220.2248

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