I was supposed to hear from the car dealership on Friday about when I could expect my new car to be delivered. I heard nothing, so I figured I’d have to get up and be ready. I knew the local rental agency opened at 9:00 a.m., and I certainly hoped I wouldn’t be spending another day waiting around. Waiting around, especially the kind of waiting around that preempts everything and anything else one might want to do, is not the kind of thing I do well.
During the holidays this year, I attended a couple of interesting theme parties. One was the Ugly Christmas Sweater party. This is, of course, where everyone wears an ugly Christmas sweater and the sweater voted ugliest wins. I wasn’t going to go, but then, my oldest daughter, who can find any reason to celebrate, wouldn’t let me off the hook. We happened to be in Goodwill one day and I noticed the ugly Christmas sweaters. She pointed to the perfect one. The typical Christmas appliqués, with ribbons and jingle bells placed randomly all over the thing. The buttons were jingle bells and there was even a hole in it were the sweater had worn. Well, once I bought it, I had to attend the party. I was sure my sweater would win. Read the rest of this entry
I am moving. It’s a sudden thing, and I am not prone to this kind of suddenness. I’ve been in the same residence for ten years, after all.
This move is the right thing at the right time for me right now.
There’s just so much in my life that currently falls into the area of “the unknown.” I don’t need the instability of wondering if, when, and where I am moving. And I need to move.
I need to get out of this place because psychologically it is draining me. There are just too many painful memories here. Memories of a love gone wrong, of insecurities preyed upon, of lives, hearts and psyches abused and damaged. There is also the glaring truth that no matter how long I live here and work to improve this place those memories and reminders contained its walls and corners will never disappear. I will forever see the improved thing and think of what came before.
It is time to move on.
Just like with the marriage, I thought for a long time I could fix it. I finally realized I cannot; I moved on and haven’t looked back.
Once that decision is made, it is amazing how things can fall rapidly into place.
Six months ago I was playing with the idea, the possibility, the wisdom of leaving. Five months ago and each month since, I’ve made decisions that put into play a series of events that moved me closer to being able to leave. The last, item, to find new digs.
Not so easy to do, when your credit is shot.
Amazing how miracles still occur.
This time last week, I had no idea I was moving. Had you asked me, I would have said, “Yes, I’ll probably be moving within the next six months.” I had no idea I would be residing in my new location in two weeks. I’m a big believer these days that when you know something is right, you know it. I believe that about jobs, relationships and homes. This home appeared and all the necessary details fell into place. I’m ecstatic. While it is going to be sad to leave (sort of), it is far more exciting to go. But going brings its own stresses and having less than fourteen days to pack up and move a family of six is filled with more than the usually day-to-day moving stress. It doesn’t help that this is happening right at back-to-school season either. It also doesn’t help that it occurred during the process of mediation with the second ex…the one I hold responsible for the damages to my current abode. Oh well.
So, I’ve been up writing to do lists, making plans, and…once I got the floor plan of the new place emailed to me…placing furniture.
There is the stress of going through the accumulation of a decade of misery and getting rid of it all. Sometimes I do wish I could just torch the place. It would be so much easier. Purging is good, and necessary, and we are doing it. I thought it would be tough for my kids, but they’ve gotten on board and are doing a great job. Of course, the carrot of New Stuff in a New Place is helping motivate them. There is the stress of packing and organizing packed boxes so that moving day isn’t complete chaos and the unpacking a disaster. There is the anxiety of trying to figure out how a new location will impact our lives and our routines. There is the excitement of looking forward to living in surroundings that are palatial compared to what we currently reside in. There is the anticipation of, for the first time in a decade, being able to put dishwasher detergent on our shopping list. Yes, folks, I have gone the last ten years without a mechanical (as opposed to human) dishwasher. This is exciting.
I’m struck with how this idea of place impacts our lives so much. For me, location is everything. I know there are people who can be comfortable in any setting. These are the people who can walk right into a new place and start meeting people right away. I’m not one of those people. When I enter a new environment, I have to give myself time to become acquainted with the environment, before I can comfortably engage with others around me. I have to take time to take in the details of the place I’m in. I don’t need a lot of time, but I prefer to have a few minutes to get my bearings.
Changing residences, even if the change is only a short distance like mine, can radically impact a persons’ lifestyle. This move, for my family, will alter things for us in a big way. For one, it is going to increase my commute time, for the next couple of years, at least. That, however, is the only trick part about this move and even with the increased commute time, my total travel time about 30 minutes. I can live with this. I can especially live with the savings in my pocketbook every month due to paying less in housing costs and utilities. I can live with the way this move will positively impact my lifestyle and increase the amount of time I have available to do the things I want to do like, travel, cycle, and write. Face it, with no yard to deal with, I’m going to have a lot more time. I’ve also totally eliminated the weekly arguments with my son about whether or not the lawn really needs to be mowed or not, which means I’m also reducing my stress load.
There are other ways that this move will impact our lives. A new environment contains new requirements for maintenance and upkeep. For example, this new place has hardwood floors on one level and carpet upstairs. The floors downstairs will need to be swept. Someone is going to have to have that job every day. Dishes will no longer be stacked on the counter glaring at us until someone decides to put them away, but they might remain in the dishwasher forever if I don’t assign that chore to someone. Since we’ll now have an indoor laundry area, there’s absolutely no way we can just dump the stuff out in the garage and “get to it when we get to it.” I am going to have to make sure the kids understand the new expectations for handling laundry and keeping our nice new place (built in 2005 instead of 1978) clean and tidy. The list goes on and on. The place we live in often dictates how we operate in our daily lives. I am only just beginning to realize how I’ve limped along for the last decade simply because the location we lived in was so unhappy and outdated.
So…the stress and details keep me up.
I’m anxious about making it all happen as smoothly as possible especially where our school year transportation routines are concerned.
I’m very excited about how positive this is for all of us. It’s going to be a crazy ride, but it will be worth it. Hopefully, once the move is over, I will be so exhausted, I’ll actually collapse into a deep and contented sleep…maybe for the first time in over a decade.