So the truck has been loaded and the Boyfriend et. al. are in transit from the G.C. I have completed my Very Important dual duties of “Requester of the Keys” (I had to show I’d and everything!) and “Inspector of the Apartment” and am now just hanging out in the lobby waiting for the assorted troops to arrive.

You may be curious as to why the Boyfriend’s Sister is not, say, inspecting her own apartment and that would be because she is not actually going to be present for said Big Move as she has been in Miami all weekend for work and is scheduled to land in Newark at about 3:00 at which point, barring any unexpected incidents/I find out we are actually also expected to unpack everything as well, the Big Move should be complete.

Some people might, I don’t know, wait to schedule their move for a day when they are actually around to MOVE, but the Boyfriend’s Sister does not roll that way. Instead, her big contribution was to send around a powerpoint “presentation” (Can you call one single lonely ppt slide a presentation? I think no.) Detailing what time we all needed to arrive and what we needed to be doing at different times. I kid you not. Highlights include:

10:30 – fifi arrives at apartment
10:40 – fifi begins apartment inspection

And my personal favorite:

10:15 – Boyfriend’s Sister boards plane in Miami

Specialness.

Anyway, the Boyfriend thought this was all clever and awesome as evidenced by his “My sister is so good at organizing! Look at this awesome powerpoint presentation she made to help us!” email he used to circulate the ppt.

I forwarded it to my mother. She emailed back that she was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. She may be full of awesome, the Madre is, but she is not always full of empathy. Particularly when it is related to ridiculous situations the Boyfriend’s Sister gets us into.

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Update: Shortly after I finished that paragraph, the Boyfriend’s Cousin and his wife showed up to help so I was forced to pack away the snark. The Boyfriend’s Sister ended up getting in around 1:30 as we were finishing up and was her usual cheerful self and proceeded to be bratty to her mother who was innocently trying to help organize things. (MA! Ugh. That is NOT where I want that box. MA! You’re doing it wrong. MA! etc.) Charming.*

*I mean, yes, this is a different strokes for different folks situation, but all I know is that if the Madre volunteered to unpack and set up my kitchen for me, I would be all: YES PLEASE. But that is just me. And I also know she would do an awesome job.

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