Farewell Hotel Hell

We moved!

To another hotel.

…..

Except this time, it’s a real hotel. The word sanitary comes to mind. It’s a miracle.

Let’s recap. We moved into hotel hell on December 1st, 2012, thinking we’d only be there for 2 weeks, before moving into an apartment. We all know that didn’t happen. And we all lived in a teeny little bitty room together, shared beds, and tried not to kill one another.

 

Goodbye ever moving dumpster. And pole. Which I have not run into.

Goodbye ever moving dumpster. And pole. Which I have not run into.

 

9 THINGS I WILL NEVER MISS

NUMBER ONE has to be sharing two bathrooms with an entire run down hotel turned rooms for rent. Now, to sum up the state of the jerry rigged hotel’s restrooms, let me be extremely nice.

Both bathrooms looked like barn stalls for large and messy animals that must be cleaned up every week.

Not fun.

NUMBER TWO would be sharing one shower with the entire hotel. Kind of ironic. The whole point of taking a shower is to get clean, right? Yeah, no. Not anymore. We were advised by the managers to wear flip flops when taking a shower.

And during-shower-gnat-dodging? It’s a thing now. I’ve perfected it.

NUMBER THREE – The pigeons scurrying like rats on top of the bathroom ceiling. At 3 in the morning, this is an interesting thing to experience. Imagine us the first time we closed the door to the teeny bathroom and heard pigeons tap dancing above our heads. We weren’t thinking pigeons, I’ll tell you that much.

NUMBER FOUR  – the fridge, oven, and open ladders left in the already extremely thin hallway so that I could trip over them and kill myself. Repeatedly.  You know how you get into the isles at the store and then someone else comes down the opposite end, and all you can think is how you need more room because they make these bloody store isles into death traps so they can watch you almost kill one another on the security feed and laugh their toenails off?

Add klutz Daphne.

 

Goodbye oven and fridge that's taken up residence in the hallway for the past three months with no explanation.

Goodbye oven and fridge that’s taken up residence in the hallway for the past three months with no explanation.

 

NUMBER FIVE would be the uneven flooring. I work out. While living in hotel hell, I worked out on a drastically uneven floor only four feet in every direction. Imagine stretching your legs out and being uneven when you go from one leg to the other. One gets uber stretched out, the other almost not at all. Sucks!

Plus, you know, mattresses go on the floor. So if the floor is crooked, so is your bed. Can you say chiropractor and migraines? Your bones. They’re not supposed to be crooked.

NUMBER SIX is the lack of phone jacks. You know what that means, right? No internet. For six months. We’re all lucky I didn’t go on a rampage. I have weapons. They are fun. I finally got a wifi provider, and it moves at the speed of smell, but at least I stopped considering mass murder.

NUMBER SEVEN – the last two months we lived there, the fridge didn’t work. Our food continued to go bad every three days. Fun times.

NUMBER EIGHT. Middle of summer. No air conditioner. Small room. Need I say more?

NUMBER NINE – the mold and asbestos in the walls. Guess how many months I was sick out of the eleven months and one week we lived there?  Ten months and two weeks.

Hmmm….. I wonder why. I’m sure it has nothing to do with mold and asbestos in the walls.

Goodbye ever Murphy's Law qualifier.

Goodbye every Murphy’s Law qualifier.

 

THINGS I’LL NEVER FORGET

  1. When our sink fell apart. Almost everything in the hotel was jerry rigged. Our sink was no exception. When it exploded, we found that the pipes were being held up by shoe strings, rubber bands, and one pink ribbon.
  2. Our manager giving me three pairs of free jeans because she knew I only had one pair.
  3. The teeny adorable bats zinging back and forth out of our building’s hole in the wall (no literally, there’s a hole in the side of the building). We’re all into watching them, they’re so adorable, and the owner tells Dylan that bats have rabies. The size of his eyes as he backed away from the window. Priceless.
  4. Not to wear slide on shoes with socks when running up and down stairs as your dog drags you. Yet, I did it every single day and night. So much sense.
  5. Two-tone, the sentinel cat who sat at the end of the hall and watched me as I walked around in the hallway. Creepy.
  6. Opening our door and BAM! Contact high.
  7. Random, suspect stains which appeared overnight in the hallways. I never found the bodies.
  8. Opening the back door on people’s faces. On accident. No really, it was on accident and you’d think I’d remember not to swing it like I was trying to break the wall on the other side. I do believe I’m the only person who did that during the entire time I lived there.

 

Goodbye parking lot which housed the best displays of glass, empty coffee cups, and that adorable Shiloh dog who Lucky sniffs at.

Goodbye parking lot behind our building which housed the best displays of glass, empty coffee cups, and that adorable Shiloh dog who Lucky sniffs at.

 

LUGGAGE WARS

Now that we’ve covered that, let’s get to the move. Did I mention that we drove four hours up to a different county? In our truck. Our stuff out of the hotel. With all of my family…

Think about that for a minute. Me. Mum. 2 mallows. My dog. And all of our stuff out of the hotel.

Right off the bat, I had three things against me.

1 – the truck was covered floor to ceiling with stuff. Holly and Dylan sat next to each other and held the bags and objects falling on them up. I sat with boxes and bags packed in around me, Lucky on my lap, while holding a backpack from falling on Mum as she drove. There was no room for movement. Or breathing. Or existing, in general. Except mum, or you know, we’d all be dead.

2 – I woke up miserable – with itchy, painful eyes that felt like I’d spent hours balling my eyes out. My throat was swollen and painful. I could feel the internal gunk swarming around inside my sinus passages. My nose was running and plugged. I couldn’t breathe and my face was drooling, head pounding – and I fell out of bed.

3 – we didn’t leave until ten at night. It’s a four hour drive.

 

*drum roll please*

We got to our hotel room at two in the morning. Once I got into bed, I couldn’t sleep. Hmm. Let’s take a look at why. I’d fall asleep, stop breathing, and wake myself up. BECAUSE I COULDN’T BREATHE!

Beautiful end to the first day of our fresh start in a new county.

*head desk*

 

Goodbye bike path which I walked Lucky on every day. Have I mentioned that I love this bike path? I need to find one up here...

Goodbye bike path which I walked Lucky on every day. Have I mentioned that I love this bike path? I need to find one up here…

 

P.S. My wireless internet carrier moves at the speed of snail on anti-depressants, so if I continue to lack in speedy replies to emails, blogs, and twitter, don’t kill me. I’m busy beating my head against the wall.

 

But hey - at least the walls here are cleaner than this, right?

But hey – at least the walls here are cleaner than this, right?

 

P.P.S. I am smiling as I write this. Don’t worry about me. This is supposed to be a crappy time in my life held up in a humorous light. Laugh.

Ha ha.

Optimism + Sarcasm = CALM DOWN!

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5 Comments

Filed under Stream of Consciousness

5 responses to “Farewell Hotel Hell

  1. Jae

    I’m so glad you’re out of Hotel Hell. I’m hoping this new hotel will be at the very least Hotel NotHell or better Hotel SeemsNice. Looking forward to the updates. 🙂

  2. You know how I feel. *hugs* *raises glass of whatever you’re drinking* Here’s to new beginnings! Cheers! And breathing. We can’t forget about breathing. 😉

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