Move Preparation: Installment 1

Just as chicken pox, sunburns and your teenage years seem to get worse before getting better, so does the attempt at improving one's lot in life. G and I have decided to live together as the next step in our relationship, but unfortunately this entails finding an apartment, finding a replacement roommate (for me) and physically packing and moving.
When I moved to my current place a year and a half ago, my (good) life started falling into place. I had (and still have) a job that I enjoy, I had a good stash of friends and family and my new apartment and roommates seemed to be problem free. About a month after I moved in I met Gabriel and things have been going well ever since.
Gabriel started planning a return trip to Israel this winter. The month long service/vacation would allow him to reconnect with his home and allow him to "volunteer" his mandatory military service.
Eventually we decided it would be good to move in together just after his month long sojourn, in August. He and his other two roommates are moving just prior to his departure, which means he had to find a home for his two cats and store all his belongings.
Last night we took a load of boxes to his storage unit...which was something straight out of a murder mystery. When he signed the contract, they made him promise not to store firearms, explosives...or ex-girlfriends. We pulled the car into the unloading garage and adult contemporary rock (Sarah McLachlan) played softly in the backgroud. The automatic sliding doors opened and we followed the corridor down to his unit. I kept expecting someone to turn a corner in front of us, or for us to stumble upon a dead body, while the Police sang "Every Breath You Take" overhead. We moved quickly since I didn't want to spend any more time there than we had to.
When he finally pulled the car out of the garage, I pushed the button to lower the garage door behind him, hoping to run under it before it closed, but the mechanism stopped the door and wouldn't let me do that. So I closed the garage door and tried to get out the normal egress, but it locked from the inside as well as the outside. I knocked for G to let me out, but he couldn't find the cards with the codes on them in any of his pockets! For about 30 seconds I felt trapped and alone inside the scary storage unit while G was free outside...and worried about all aspects of the impending move (will we find a place before G goes to Israel or will I have to find one on my own? will it be affordable and nice or will it be in the ghetto with bars on the windows? will I find a good replacement roommate for my roommates?). Then I remembered I had the card in my pocket so showed it to G and he let me out.

*Editor's note: I should note it's not all gloom and doom! We are optimistic and while we have seen a couple of doozies, it's good to know that G and I are in the same boat and can commiserate after the bad apartments over drinks at the closest bar!