Megan Taylor

front-end dev, volunteacher, news & data junkie, bibliophile, Flyers fan, sci-fi geek and kitteh servant

Teeter, teeter, summit

If you’re already sore throughout the shin and calf area, a morning hike through a Jersey industrial area is a really stupid idea.

Okay, that one was on me. But there was a cab to bring us back to the hotel, and the negative effects were halved. This was the getting of the first two grand, which was the base required cost of signing our lease.

Skip ahead a few hours, and it’s started to rain. Raining while waiting for the bus, raining down 5th Ave. to the landlord’s office, raining when we were told to come back a half hour later because he was busy. When we finally got to talk to him, and were given the amount needed to overcome the lack of income, it was still raining. (Side note: none of this week’s tension compares to the four minutes waiting for him to come back in the room and give the final approval)

Here’s where it got weird: Go over to the bank and ask for a money order, they tell me their printer isn’t working. This is odd, since it seems like it would be hard to run a bank without the ability to put ink to paper. Run down to 51st, where they tell me that money orders can’t be printed for those amounts, and I don’t have the name for a cashier’s check. Megan runs (literally) back to the office, phones the name, and I haul over with the documents.

Of course, none of that would have even happened without the best man that I know. When it was crunch time, my father not only responded immediately but did so above and beyond my request for at-this-very-instant fundage. Dad = rules.

When all was said and done, I stood 120 inches tall knowing that I am now a Bedford Park resident.

Now, to deal with actually moving all that crap up there tomorrow.