Big news!! No, I haven’t settled the futon versus couch dilemma, but I am now sleeping on a bed. Yes, my move is now official. As great as it is, I will say that it is a little sad when all of my belongings fit into two vehicles that took less than an hour to pack. Of course, no move is complete without a little hard work - and a good story or two. Here’s mine.

After a quick trip home to pick up my stuff and my two mover-cousins and a fast round-trip back to Chicago, I was finally getting excited to have everything moved in. Keeping in mind that there wasn’t a lot of stuff and that there is a service elevator, however small, this really should be a piece of cake, I thought. We’ll be cracking the beers open in no time.

First, the dresser. No problem. Then, the bed. Ahhh, the bed I have been coveting and dreaming about for three long months. Did I mention that the elevator was small?

Nothing that a little elbow grease can’t handle, right? And, no point in making extra trips. So, my wonderful helpers and I squeezed two box springs and a queen-size mattress into the tiny elevator.

That’s when disaster struck. While we were turning the mattress every which way trying to make it fit, someone went up when the other person went down. Oops. A shower of ceiling tile pieces rained down. (Yes, I, too, wonder how old those ceiling tiles were to be reduced to smithereens with the bump of a mattress.) Well, problem solved as the mattress fit beautifully in the elevator.

After the bed was set up (and dusted off), we went back to grab one last load and clean up the mess. As luck would have it, who should we be sharing the elevator with but my landlord as he discovered that “someone” had broken the tiles. Time stood still as we stared at the elevator door waiting for it to open, mum about the cause of the damage.

Was that wrong? Maybe. Yes, we broke the tiles, but had they not been brittle and of pre-war age, they would have pushed up and not broken. So, it’s a toss-up. Besides, they clearly needed to be replaced, right? (Good thing that my landlord doesn’t read my blog.)

Overall, though, the entire process went fairly well (thanks to my wonderful movers!). I mean, there’s no reason to cry over a few broken ceiling tiles. Plus, I’m sure that we could all think of a few moving horror stories with much worse results. In fact, we’d love to hear them.

P.S. The futon vs. couch battle rages on. Thanks to all of you who have voted and given some great advice. Please keep on voting - right now, the futon has pulled ahead, but it’s a close game.