Not a good experience.

Do you remember that kid's magazine--I don't know which it was, Highlights or Cricket or something, that had part of a picture of something random and you'd have to figure out what the item was based off the part of it you had in the picture? So like... the picture would be of like... um... part of a bell on a bicycle. And you'd have to figure out what it was. I forget what those puzzles are called. Remember those though?

Anyway, we're going to play that game. Look at the following pictures and see if you can guess what they are.

Number 1.




Number 2.




Number 3.
This one has special instructions. Since it's obviously a box, you have to guess what's inside the box and what made the big gash in the side of the box.




Number 4.




Number 5.




Answers:

1. This is a shelf in my entertainment center (that Mitch and I spent days sanding and painting). A shelf that is now broken. And also, now there are big scratches all over the entertainment center.

2. This is my poor, wonderful red chair (the same red chair that has survived five plus other moves) that now has a tear in it.

3. The box is full of my books and the gash was made with our metal bed frame. It was still in the box when we opened the trailer. Nice.

4. This is my [deep breath] couch. Actually, it's the metal frame of my couch seen through the new tear in the side of said couch. And this isn't even the worst part of the tear. I just didn't take a picture until the couch was already in the trailer and I couldn't get the "better" tear. There's also a big cut in the material on the bottom of the couch.

5. This is what was left of one of our two bookshelves that I absolutely insisted we move back with us. Good thing we did since they were both completely collapsed when we reopened the trailer. Now they're in the back of the car waiting to be taken to a dumpster.

Needless to say, I have not had a good night. We went up to empty out the moving trailer and opened it up to find everything completely... a mess. I went back and forth between wanting to cry and wanting to yell at someone. Tomorrow I'm doing the yelling when I call the moving company and ask why all of my stuff is now broken/torn/gashed/scratched/scuffed/etc. and what they're going to do about it.

Oh, and here's the icing on the cake. So, we emptied the moving trailer and loaded it into a flatbed trailer, the back of my mother-in-law's SUV, and the back of our Honda. Then we had to take it from downtown Salt Lake all the way to Center Street in Orem. On the way down, one of Mitch's brothers was in my car. We were trying to find something positive about the situation and the best I could come up with was, "At least it's not raining." Right? That'd be way worse. Right? And then, as we were moving stuff from the trailer to the storage unit, it started raining.

And all our stuff didn't fit in the storage unit.

[sigh]