It all started yesterday. My plan was to have the movers come today, September 8th, and then my dad and I would begin driving out tomorrow. I get a call yesterday at 11AM from the movers saying “what time today should we come?” to which I replied “today?”. I told them I could probably be packed up by 5pm, and was actually pretty happy that they decided to come a day early rather than a day late.

They show up early at 4pm, and a guy named Avi comes in and has me sign all of the paperwork where I basically say they can break all of my things because they’re all worthless. I was aware this was coming which is why I purchased moving insurance separately. Avi and his friend (who’s name I never learned) worked on moving what I had packed while I continued to pack. I came to find out they live in Brooklyn, and Avi moved here from Israel when he was 26. He wouldn’t tell me how old he was now, but as he packed up my TV he said “I wish I had liked school more. Why? Why? Why?” I bought pizza for him and his coworker, who didn’t speak much English. Avi scolded him for having a slice of pepperoni because it contained pork. He kind of laughed it off and switched to cheese.

They were good guys. Avi’s friend was trying to teach me some phrases which sounded Arabic that I could say to women if I ever went to Israel. They ended up finishing around 8pm, at which point I started cleaning up. The apartment is mostly empty now, as you can see in the picture. I’ll turn in my keys today and the drive out West starts tomorrow.