I'm backlogged on Stuff That's Going On. And, since this is my journal (not just my own public wit forum), I wanted to get it all down while it's only day-old, as opposed to completely stale and in danger of becoming fictional.
Got up in time to make it to my chiropractor’s appointment.
pirateguillermo and I had breakfast together, and while I was there the movers called to say they were on their way. This was the calm before the storm.
My original idea was that we would pack things up and the movers would really just need to move the very large furniture and we’d do the rest. This had worked the last half-dozen times I moved, and I didn’t see why this time should be any different. Except that five years in a large house with two children does make a difference. Like...the difference between one small U-Haul and two full-sized professional moving trucks with three guys. I honestly didn’t realize that I owned so much shit that it wouldn’t fit into a single semi-sized moving truck. Holy shit.
The moving guys came in, looked around, and started laughing. You’re nowhere near ready,” Jimmy, the lead guy, said. He must have seen the panicked look on my face because he immediately broke into a very reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.” I know that I’m almost 40, but hearing those words when I am in distress really does a lot.
They spent Thursday packing everything up. And when I say “everything,” I mean EVERYTHING. I found an empty shampoo bottle in one box, and a box of stuff that I had intended to throw out at the old house. Bless their hearts. While they packed, the Pirate and I did a surgical strike to buy a washer and dryer. Came, scored, left – under 45 minutes out of the house, most of it spent on the road. Hoo-hah!
After they left,pirateguillermo and I did a little more packing, and I realized that this isn’t so much physically exhausting as emotionally exhausting. Having my life paraded in front of me in all its poverty and excess is disturbing. I just want to hide until it’s all over and I can be in denial again.
We took the featherbed and the thermarests and blankets to sleep at the new house because our bed had no sheets and was under a mountain of boxes. We slept on the floor, and no matter how much stuff you put on the floor, you’re still sleeping on the floor. But we were in our beautiful new house in the mountains with the babbling stream just outside and the trees and the breeze and the camembert cheese (okay...getting carried away here).
Got up in time to make it to my chiropractor’s appointment.
pirateguillermo and I had breakfast together, and while I was there the movers called to say they were on their way. This was the calm before the storm. My original idea was that we would pack things up and the movers would really just need to move the very large furniture and we’d do the rest. This had worked the last half-dozen times I moved, and I didn’t see why this time should be any different. Except that five years in a large house with two children does make a difference. Like...the difference between one small U-Haul and two full-sized professional moving trucks with three guys. I honestly didn’t realize that I owned so much shit that it wouldn’t fit into a single semi-sized moving truck. Holy shit.
The moving guys came in, looked around, and started laughing. You’re nowhere near ready,” Jimmy, the lead guy, said. He must have seen the panicked look on my face because he immediately broke into a very reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.” I know that I’m almost 40, but hearing those words when I am in distress really does a lot.
They spent Thursday packing everything up. And when I say “everything,” I mean EVERYTHING. I found an empty shampoo bottle in one box, and a box of stuff that I had intended to throw out at the old house. Bless their hearts. While they packed, the Pirate and I did a surgical strike to buy a washer and dryer. Came, scored, left – under 45 minutes out of the house, most of it spent on the road. Hoo-hah!
After they left,
pirateguillermo and I did a little more packing, and I realized that this isn’t so much physically exhausting as emotionally exhausting. Having my life paraded in front of me in all its poverty and excess is disturbing. I just want to hide until it’s all over and I can be in denial again. We took the featherbed and the thermarests and blankets to sleep at the new house because our bed had no sheets and was under a mountain of boxes. We slept on the floor, and no matter how much stuff you put on the floor, you’re still sleeping on the floor. But we were in our beautiful new house in the mountains with the babbling stream just outside and the trees and the breeze and the camembert cheese (okay...getting carried away here).
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