Where’s our stuff? This is the question I asked numerous employees of North American Van Lines all day long.  Today was the end of their delivery window for our cross-country move from Portland to Venice.  All of our belongings were to be here now at the very latest according to the contract. They face giving me a measly discount of $100 per day while we live with no furniture and only the clothing we brought with us. Our valuable possessions continue to sit in their Portland warehouse while we’re forced to buy the basics to live in a new home that are often duplicates of what is crammed on that truck. The only explanation is that people on the West Coast, especially Portland, are exiting in mass. 

Apparently there are no pods, rental trucks, or semi drivers to accommodate the needs of this mobile migration. The only benefit of Covid is the fact that the workforce is allowed to function from home and live anywhere…anywhere but Portland seems to be the majority rule. It’s been two weeks since our apartment was cleared out by the movers. We thought we would be racing them to Florida. Instead, we’re still waiting in limbo, along with many others. The unrest in the city certainly didn’t help the situation with the destruction of downtown and the adverse national reputation this has caused. Representatives from the moving industry claim to have never seen anything like this. We’re stuck in the middle. 

Another good chunk of my day was spent dealing with no power. I had called Florida Power and Light in a timely manner and arranged for service. I was even given an account number, but once the lights went out there was no record of me, my social security ID, or any other number. Supposedly, our street name was entered improperly and they called someone at that incorrect address who indicated that the account was in the wrong name and should be disconnected. It was another moving hassle that I didn’t need, having to resubmit my request and start all over. Fortunately, they responded quickly, but we were due to watch the grandkids. There was no time for a shower or breakfast to make it on time. It was a rough way to start the day followed by the trauma of trying to find our stuff. Fellow Portlandians beware – if you want to leave the city you can’t! There’s a mass evacuation in the works.