When it was determined by my CRAZY family that I was indeed going through with the whole moving grandma near me thing, they called the building where grandma lived in her little dirty hot rent stabilized apartment and asked if they would offer up a little cash incentive to get her out of the apartment. It is pretty common for big landlords in NYC to give a little money to long term residents to encourage them to get out since the landlord can then refinish the wood floors, install a new kitchen and quadruple the rent. This landlord wasn't willing to play ball. Then the scum-cle informed them that he was thinking of subletting the apartment for the next two years, as is legally allowed, and the landlord retorted with "We won't approve your tenants. Nyah nyah nyah" Needless to say, the landlord was pissed. It was obvious that it was grandma's time to go, they had seen her leave by ambulance enough that they were probably shocked we took as long as we did to move her. (haha, did you see that I said "we"?)
In the mean time, there are still a few things that need to be cleaned out of grandma's place, and I have been putting off doing that. The scum-cle was in her neighborhood and decided to go over there and catalog what was left, in case there was anything of monetary or sentimental value he hadn't already stolen from her. The doormen told him they had been given orders by the management not to let any family in. The scum-cle pushed his way past them and went up stairs. A few minutes later the police showed up and made him leave. Hahaha. He didn't have time to sift thru her things!
The next day the management called me, and in attempt to avoid a law suit, they explained that by calling the cops on my 72 old mild mannered professor uncle, (I find his tweed jackets with the elbow patches to be very intimidating myself) they were merely attempting to protect their long time resident, my defenseless sweet old grandma, and that despite the release form she had registered with the main office allowing my scum-cle, mother and myself in to her apartment, they just didn't know if they should allow any family in. They also mentioned that the scum-cle was "hostile" towards the police man, and well, I'm thinking that at least he and I do have one thing besides DNA in common. I told them they could have their (stinky) apartment back as soon as we finished taking grandma's belongings, and that now that the scum-cle hadn't been able to help, our efforts might be greatly diminished. They asked me to have grandma write a letter allowing us in (cover your asses people!) and to fax it over before we come again. Now, I have to do this, which would be fine, if I didn't feel like I was the one who was being punished for my father's and scum-cle's lame and useless attempt at apartment extortion.
So, I was pissed. And I forgot to wake up early on Tuesday and call the posh gym for a spin seat, so I was pissed and spin seatless with my favorite instructor on Wednesday. Since spin was a wash out, I stopped by The OFH on my way to the gym to get grandma to write that letter. Josh insisted we stay for breakfast. It took forever. It was encroaching on my exercise time. I planned on doing some sort of cardio machine before weights with Bubbles, and was hoping to get at least 40 minutes in. Time was ticking away. TICK TICK TICK EAT YOUR PANCAKES!! By the time I got to the posh gym, got Josh signed into the kids room, and made my way down to the fitness area, I had only about 15 minutes of cardio time. Don't you know that people were on my favorite eliptical machines? I couldn't believe it. The ultimate slap in the face. Don't those people know I need my regular machines? I had to get on an unfamiliar machine, and that was more than I thought I could handle, but I did it anyway. Those machines are so state of the art that I can't figure out their computers, but somehow I managed to program in an interval program (which is what I wanted) for 60 minutes (which I was never going to get) I started pumping and all the pissy pissed off adrenaline from the last couple of weeks started to take over my legs. I pumped and pumped and raised the resistance, and pumped some more. When Bubbles found me a few minutes later, frantically pumping away, she thought I might have been on the machine for the 56 minutes that it showed. "No, I told her, that is what is left of the hour it is programmed to. I'm so pissed I could do it though, and never even slow down." Then I pumped pumped pumped mentioned how pissed I was. Pump pump pump. I told her that the scum-cle pump pump was making all this work for me pump pump and that pump my Dad had helped pump this time pump pump and that they pump pump wouldn't stop calling pump me, and they were pump driving pump me pump cra-pump-zy. But I am sure that back in the gym I used the word "pissed" at least 7 times in there. Bubbles watched me frantically trying to pump my way into taking flight, cocked her head in a thoughtful position and said "I'll be right back" She came back a few minutes later with the best thing I have ever seen in that gym. Boxing gloves. I was like, yeah baby, you got my number! I dismounted the eliptical and followed Bubbles into an empty squash court. I put on the gloves and let loose on those little square red pads she had strapped onto herself. The squares were scum-cle, mommy dearest, and dear old dad. They were the management company that is yanking my chain, the lady on the phone who pretended to care about grandma, the doorman that didn't just look the other way, and even the bitch in the Lexus that stole my parking spot. I was out for blood, and swinging as hard and fast as I could. (While keeping my good posture, tight core, and proper arm position of course) Sweat was running out of my hair as I jabbed and hooked and straight punched out some serious pent up frustration. It was sooo good. I was spent. I sit here, a day later, jumping with fear of family each time the phone rings, yet with a warm cozy feeling deep down inside tinged with longing, yearning, and desire for the gloves. I think me and the gloves might have a beautiful future together.
P.S. That was yesterday. Today I ran 2 1/4 miles and walked 1.