Sooooo I wanted to bring you an amazing quesadilla recipe this week, but that didn’t pan out.
On May 31, 2015, Kieran and I moved into our new apartment on the SE side of Portland. Even though our movers were told our new apartment address on May 18, they still were nowhere near delivering our stuff to us. I was able to shoot and write recipes for Shock Munch using our Airbnb’s kitchen supplies, however, our new apartment has absolutely nothing. My entire kitchen is packed up in storage, somewhere in Chicago, waiting to be delivered to me in Portland.
I’m sure you can imagine our frustration having to go out and buy stuff we already own, like pots and pans, silverware, cups, plates, bathroom towels, ect, so we could have our basic living needs covered. The silver lining would be we can use all this cheap stuff for our main camping supplies when we finally get to go camping.
On June 5, 2015, our movers told us our stuff was on a truck, headed our way for delivery. We were given our truck drivers name and everything. We were told two other times our stuff was loaded and on its way, but we were never given a name of our driver before, we thought for SURE this was a good sign. Kieran and I were overjoyed, we haven’t seen our stuff since the end of March and we miss the shit out of our shit if you know what I mean.
So we figured we would leave our driver alone over the weekend and touch base with him on Monday. Monday rolls around and we anxiously call our driver to figure out which state he’s in. He wouldn’t tell us. He gave extremely vague answers and said he would call us back. WTF. I go into panic mode at this point. I rack my brain trying to figure out why this man can’t give me a one-word answer to, “Which state are you in?.”
Tuesday, June 9, shows up, yet still no call from our driver. I contact our moving company through their instant chat system and ask them to tell us which state our driver is in. They said they would have to call us back. Note, it’s what they always say but never do.
Then Kieran texts me, miraculously, he’s heard from our moving company. Kieran begins to deliver the worst possible news. Our moving company overbooked our driver so he couldn’t fit out stuff on June 5, like we were told. Our moving company doesn’t have any more trucks in the Chicago area. Another truck has to be sent from New York, for the second time. They think the truck will be in Chicago this coming weekend to load up our stuff.
I see RED. I now understand what it means to go into a blind rage.
#SomeoneGetMeAKnifeBecauseImGoingToCutABitch
Within a 2 minute timespan, I went from absolute livid to scream-crying, crumpled on the floor. The news crushed me.
See, we read some recent reviews of this moving company doing horrendous things to other client’s belongings, so I want my stuff safe and far, far away from this company.
Contractually our moving company has up to June 29, 2015, to deliver our stuff. At this point, all we know is our stuff will be coming between sometime next week and June 29th. If June 30th comes around, and we still don’t have our stuff, it’s attorney time. I happen to work in a law firm, so luckily I was able to have someone look over the moving contract and give me some advice.
But anyways, when it comes to moving companies, you as the client, have to understand logistics are complicated. You have to be flexible and understand as efficient as your moving company may be, there will be delays. But, as a client, what I personally do not understand, is why a moving company thinks it’s OK to not call clients with updates on those delays! No one bothered to call to say the truck never left with our stuff. Who knows how long it would have taken the moving company to ca us if they would have even bothered to call at all. They seemed perfectly content letting us believe we would finally have our stuff this week. Our moving company confirmed on 5 different occasions we would have our stuff by June 12th so we’re majorly pissed off they never reached out to us.
24 days have gone by since we told our movers our new address and we may not get our stuff for another 18 day. #FML
So, back to the topic of cheesy goodness. On Tuesday I prepared Guacamole Quesadilla’s and was hoping to shoot them for the blog. I must admit, they tasted heavenly, definitely Shock Munch worthy, but you wouldn’t know by looking at them. You know the saying, “I can tell you made this recipe with love,”?. Well, I don’t know if that’s an actual saying or not. But I do recall something about something. I’ve heard people either add love as an ingredient, or people prepare their food with love, or people make love to their food #thisamericanpie
But love was nowhere to be found in my kitchen on Tuesday. I was way too pissed, given our moving situation, and even cheese couldn’t snap me out of my funk. Which is crazy town if you know anything about me and my love for cheese. Honestly, I felt sorry for those quesadilla’s, the way I manhandled them in the pan, they could have pressed charges for domestic food abuse.
They looked sad, beat up. A bunch of the ingredients fell out onto the floor when I prematurely tried to flip them, I got distracted by my anger at one point, so one of the quesadillas burned. Man, I got so aggressive with my spatula, trying to flip those little bastards, I actually tore off segments of the tortilla, like I was channeling Mike Tyson biting off Evander Holyfield’s ear. Ugh, dinner was a sloppy mess that night.
So, Kieran and I are trying to not lose any more sleep over our moving predicament and I’m really looking forward to sharing the quesadilla recipe soon. Hopefully, next week if I can. I’m sure I can get creative and make something work. It may have to be a stupidly simple recipe like how to eat an apple but I’ll figure something out.
Kieran and I have been eating at some great establishments and guzzling down amazing beer. So if all else fails, I can share those experiences too.
Anyway, thanks for listening to me vent, I hope to be Shock Munching again soon.
Thanks for reading,
Christina
Related Posts:
Leave a Reply