When we arrived in Charlotte, we rented a car to get around town. Early the following morning, we were up before dawn and pulling into the gated community of my old apartment complex. It was still dark out as we waved the pass to activate opening the entry gate.

SCRAPE!

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

We both got out of the car to inspect.

Great. John had hit the cement barrier that was there to guide cars into the entry of the complex.

The side of the rental car was scraped and covered in yellow paint from the cement post.

“I’m sorry, it’s so dark I didn’t know that I was that close. We’ll have to take it to a body shop.” John said.

“A body shop? We can’t afford that!” I replied, “Let’s just go and see how much stuff is left in the apartment. We’ll deal with the car later.”

We climbed the steep stairs to my third floor apartment.

The sun was starting to rise as I unlocked the door. There were boxes, lots of boxes…pictures, lamps, some furniture and of course, the boys beds.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. This is a lot of stuff!” I said with a sigh, “There’s no way that we can move all of this by ourselves.”

I had an idea. I shuffled through my purse and located the business card of two guys, that had previously moved a couch for me. It was a long shot with little notice, but thankfully they were available to help.

Okay, at least that was settled.

Now all we had to do was pay for the rental of a moving van, pay the movers, help them by running up and down steep flights of stairs while taking the smaller items to the van in order to save time…

And have enough money for gas to drive the moving van back home to Connecticut and to pay for one night at a hotel room to break up the drive…

Oh, and repair the rental car before we returned it.

What were we going to do about that?

Stay tuned for part 3

To find out what happens next.

My Life I Swear