(Ho)tel me a tale

This is the last full day we’ll spend in our hotel-home. Tomorrow we’ll pack up and move again for one last round with our family friends before move-in day. (Only 11 days to go! Eeee!) It’s not been so bad living in a hotel for a couple of weeks, really. The place we’ve been staying in is actually pretty nice, considering how little we’re paying for it.
hotel_room2

I mean, sure, I’d prefer if my bed was not also my couch and my dinner table. And it’d be nice if I didn’t have to store food so close to my dirty socks. But I just keep reminding myself that this is all part of the experience. Eventually, when we’re finally settled and officially Boston residents, one of us will say to the other “Remember when we came back from the St. Patty’s Day Parade and the power was out in the hotel? And that big, country-fried guy in the cut-off t-shirt told us he and his buddies had gotten stuck in the elevator and had to crawl out through the ceiling? Cool story, brah!”

Other cool stories (brah) that we’ll take with us when we check out tomorrow:

A continuing ed course in Easy Mac.
Sean and I sprung for fancy rooms with a microwave and a mini-fridge so we wouldn’t have to go out to eat every night. It’s like being in college again, except this time I’m using my mini-fridge for spinach and Gouda instead of beer and leftover Chick-Fil-A. (Don’t worry — we keep plenty of junk food handy on the counter above our “kitchen.” Sometimes when I hit a lull in my workday, my boredom tastes like jalapeño pretzels.) Since I work from home, I’m in charge of eating most of the groceries. I keep it simple during the day — usually just Greek yogurt or a banana for breakfast and peanut butter on some sort of delivery vessel (bread or an apple does just fine) for lunch. But when the man of the house comes home, well, that’s a whole ‘nother story! The white tablecloths come out, the lights dim, and we rehydrate Cups O’ Noodles with the coffeemaker.
hotel_noms

Twenty-first century entertainment.
Technically our hotel has free wi-fi, but the internet here leaves something to be desired. It works fine during the day for job stuff (yawn) but at night? When I have important things to do like stream Netflix? Forget it.

There aren’t a ton of nightlife options near our hotel — we’re staying in a suburb because it’s way cheaper than Boston — so we’d planned to spend our evenings keeping up with the Bartlet administration. But it’s hard to get anything out of a 45-minute West Wing episode that takes two hours to watch because of all the buffering. So much buffering. Seriously, enough with the buffering! T.V.’s not an option, either: we get about 15 cable channels in our room — three of them are news, four are ESPN, and not a single one is HGTV. So we’ve been watching a lot of Redbox movies on my laptop. There’s a machine right across the street from our hotel, and it’s my job to walk to it every day, return the DVD from the night before, and pick up a new movie for the evening. For what it’s worth, Dallas Buyers Club, Captain Phillips, and Gravity are totally worth the rental fee. WOW. (I enjoyed Nebraska, too, but I was a little hopped up on Manchego and Chenin Blanc. So. You may want to take my opinion with a grain of salt.)

“You wanna come over to my place tonight?”
Our room the first week had two double beds, and there just wasn’t enough space in one of them for me, Sean’s knobby knees, and our cuddly cat. So Sean and I both took a bed to ourselves, and her Highness split her time between the two. We spent most evenings dining and watching movies on my bed, but occasionally Sean would invite me over to “his place” for a change of scenery.

Minor emergencies are the spice of life.
The power outage thing happened on the second day of our stay, and fire alarm went off later that week. It ended up being nothing and we were allowed to go back in pretty quickly. But if it had been a real fire, all the stuff we brought with us in Sean’s car — the stuff we didn’t think we’d be able to live without while we waited for our shipping containers to arrive — would’ve gone up in flames. We literally would’ve had nothing left but a freaked out cat and the clothes on our back. The second week was decidedly less exciting, although our A/C unit does have a mind of its own — we wake up every morning around 3AM melting into our pillows.

3 thoughts on “(Ho)tel me a tale

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