choco_frosh | Realm: Journalistik Subrealm: Moving (what, again?!?)

So in the last few days, we´ve moved out of Grace´s dorm room, and into our new apartment. It´s generally quite nice, and we´re very happy not to be trying to both fit into one single bed. But there have been a few problems...

Thursday: got up, went downtown (with large suitcase) to meet landlord.
9:15: Got to Konradigasse way early. Large builders truck in front of no. 14. Landlord (looking like he hadn´t changed or bathed since conference the previous day), explained that they had been installing new fridge, as old one had been showing signs of approaching death. Was generally very helpful and generous, and gave much useful information...including the unpleasant news (which I ought to have gleaned from earlier communications) that there was a) no oven and b) no washing machine. Cursed under breath. Landlord said that would HOPEFULLY be moved out by this evening, then very generously drove me half-way to University in hope of getting me a carrell before I pointed out that I actually had an APPOINTMENT to meet Grace at the Archäologisches Museum at 11. Walked back, looking for toaster ovens on the way. Had tour (at truly excessive speed) of said Museum with Grace´s German class: very cool, must go back some time. Went home, had lunch, was inadvertantly rude to one of G´s Mitbewohner due to hunger, exhaustion (2 people+one twin bed=not enough sleep), and general brain-deadness.
After lunch: Successfully located used appliance store that Grace had noticed earlier. Store is run by Iranians, who joke that they ought to be declaring war on us. We mention "Ich habe für George Bush nicht gewählt" t-shirts. They don´t like their regime much either (not surprisingly) Find ovens, relatively cheap, but lack appropriate cash. Go downtown, deposite more luggage. No landlord. Went back, got cash, return to shop. Owner busy with couple with two-year-old and country accent contrasting oddly with their appearance. Wait around. Owner eventually gets couple to leave store, installs plug on stove, agrees to deliver it and us to Konradigasse.
4:00: after negotiating around every major road obstruction in downtown Konstanz in large van, arrive at appartment, more-or-less at time when were supposed to phone landlord re: carrell, progress on moving out. No landlord.
4:40: having shown Grace around apartment, still no landlord. Grace goes home.
5:00: Give up on landlord, write note, head for home (well "home": G´s oh-so-lovely dorm).
5:15: Miss bus by literally fifteen seconds. Wait around for next one.
5:40: Go running. Get rained on.
8:00: Go up to Uni, read email, delete vast numbers of emails from Yale lists I can´t be bothered to unsubscribe from, hear from Bank that previous account in Regensburg is causing them confusion. Groan, write polite letter explaining. Ponder LJ-format.

Subrealm: So schlecht, es ist fast Spaßhaft
Friday, 9:00: Arrive at apartment with even huger load of stuff. Landlord not there (yet again), though he HAS left me a note to say he´s finished moving out, etc.
Further mail: On checking mailbox, discover letter forwarded (thank you, Klara!) from Regensburg. Fulbright has deposited 1500 E. in my bank account. My Regensburg´ bank account. The one that isn´t supposed to exist any more. Swear.
10:00: walk around town in fruitless search for barber who charges less than 20 E.
12:00: Arrive at Uni for meeting with advisor. Discover that wrote down wrong time. Sprint through corridors to advisor´s office. Advisor has already left office, and indeed town. Curse self, pace around area, go back to library to compose apologetic email.
12:45: Sprinting out of University to catch bus before it leaves. It´s only when I hear "Nächste Haltestelle: Gutenbergstraße" that I remember that there are TWO buses that stop at the university. Getting home is going to take longer than I thought...

By this point, I´m starting to wonder what I did to deserve this. Did I accidently run over some magician´s pet? Are the fates just using my life as the equivalent of some sort of movie in very poor taste? Or am I stuck in some bizarre Reality-TV show, devoted to seeing how much random stuff one guy can take? At least I haven´t yet been thrown into mud and trampled by pigs, which would be the next thing to happen if I were organizing possibilities b or c.
(That afternoon, I managed to get things straightened out with my bank. I hope. Still need to explain my banking situation to Fulbright, who seem to be ultra-competent at everything EXCEPT this...)

Subrealm: Bailing us out (literally)
Saturday: Went to Bauernmarkt. Mmm, Bauernmarkt. Also got haircut, and bought dustpan, then got home to find two more under the kitchen sink.
I also bought a washing machine from aforesaid Iranian guy, who also installed it (seemingly straightforward, although tape on existing outlet piping looks kinda ghetto). Did laundry that evening. Machine seems to work fine. However, on going down to see if laundry is clean, dicovered 2 cm. of water all over basement floor, and dripping down wall of foundation (fourteenth century). Morter shows signs of dissolving.
We eventually realized that, while this corner of the cellar had all the piping etc. necessary for washer installation, it did NOT have normal access to sewer system, so any water in the pipes down there has to be removed by an electric pump in the corner. We failed to notice said pump earlier. On realizing our mistake (after the pipes had backed up and leaked soapy water all over the floor), we attempted to turn the pump on, so that we could at least finish the spin cycle. Pump works for about two seconds and then conks out.
I hastily called my landlord´s secretary (and acting representative), who very kindly said she´d come over and see if she could help. Also tried landlord and building management. Neither at home.
10:45: Secretary and husband arrive, bearing towels since they´d gotten the impression that we´d gotten water all over the apartment floor. On being shown the actual problem, however, she sensibly mobilized us to sweep the water up with brooms and dustpans (having three suddenly seemed like a Godsend) and dumping it into buckets. Her husband also inspected the pump, and suggested calling an electrician. OK, we say, we´ll call him monday, since nothing is open on Sundays. Monday, however, is German Reunification Day. Perhaps we´ll have a functioning washing machine by Tuesday.
Meantime, our bedroom is still festooned with wet laundry. And that was NOT how I would have chosen to spend the evening before my birthday. Sigh.
At least I haven´t been thrown into the mud and trampled by pigs.

Music Frickin´"Hollaback Girl" is stuck in my head again...