Reality sets in….

2 Comments

Children's northAmerican TruckWhen I was young, foolish and in better physical condition I used to think moving was a kick.  Ordering a dumpster and packing boxes made my pulse race — it was the whole vision of a new place to call home.  My husband and I have purchased four homes in thirteen years (not to mention the apartments we lived in during our in-between periods).  Now we are gearing up for yet another move…

This time my pulse isn’t racing quite as much with excitement.  See, it’s not as easy anymore.  Two kids.  Three dogs.  Two frogs.  One snail.  One husband.  And eighty tons of junk….Ugh!!!!!  Don’t get me wrong.  I absolutely love the place we are in the process of purchasing.  It’s on a great piece of land and has a lot of space to spread out (over two acres and 3300 square feet of living space).   Now I just need a huge boost of energy.  Packing.  Cleaning.  Painting.  Dealing with contractors at both houses. 

That bottle of Advil I put away last week is now back firmly in the palm of my hand.   My plans for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) which I have done in the past have been wiped off my calendar.  From now until the end of December it’s all about my move.

First, I need a quick nap.  Just thinking about this is exhausting.

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2 thoughts on “Reality sets in….

  1. TERRY, you guys move so often …. This time, why not leave all your packed boxes “as is” in the new garage. That way, next year when you’re ready to move again, you’ll already be packed up + ready to go !

  2. Hey GoodBoy:

    We’ve done that whole leave the unpacked boxes in the garage thing. Last month I pulled out a wedding gift that was still in its original gift box. That box had been moved between three states without ever being opened. Ooops!!!!

    On the bright side, over the course of the next few weeks I’m sure to drop the extra 3 or 4 pounds I’ve been carrying around since summer!!! I’ve just spent three hours loading up a dumpster in my driveway. Unfortunately I’m only about 1/5 of the way through the disaster area known as my basement.

    Hugs
    Rita

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