We decided to give ourselves one month of “leeway” in the old place with the idea that it would help to facilitate a “calm” “relaxed” “gradual” move to the new house. Somehow I overlooked the fact that this translated to moving for *onemonthstraight.*
And now that I’m knee deep in boxes at both places I’m not sure what’s worse… one really hellish day of moving or 25 moderately hellish days of moving. It’s a lot like ripping a band-aid off slowly.
I get up in the morning and I stub my toe on boxes.
I go downstairs and there’s an echo in my living room because the majority of furniture is gone. My coat is in a heap on the floor, as are my keys, various passes and wallet, because the coat rack and front hall table are gone.
I’m limited to shoe choices and I haven’t been able to iron my shirt. I go to work, rush home at 5 pm, throw hap-haphazardly packed boxes into the back of a borrowed mini-van and then drive the 20 minutes to the new place:
Unload the boxes. Paint a wall. Trip over unpacked boxes. Trim paint tape another wall. Order takeout food for dinner. Paint some more. Go home and crash. Repeat.
I’m a creature of routine. So sue me. I like to do the same things, in the same pattern day in and day out (just not moving). But the regular stuff? That can’t happen in the usual fashion right now…. and let me tell you, I’m adjusting splendidly. (as usual, italics for sarcasm….. sorry: as usual, italics for sarcasm.)
Today I got home from work and the couch was gone. Mike has gone on a bit of a kijiji binge and we seem to have purged a good portion of our living room furniture. The lonely chair in the living room is my last remaining friend.
I don’t even want to consider the amount of take out I have consumed over the past three weeks. Take out and Spaghetti. My mom brought up a huge vat of it this past weekend (thanks for feeding me mom!) and I have been living off the remnants in between the pizza and general Tao.
Similarly, those lovely brilliant green and orange veggie breakfast shakes? Gone. Don’t get me wrong… there’s still Kale in my fridge … it’s just not so brilliantly green. Also it’s a bit slimy and I haven’t gotten around to throwing it out yet. So unless you consider coffee beans protein, my diet is limited to cheese and carbs and caffeine. Excellent.
Oh but that’s ok… because what with the daily awesome work out routine that I’ve been able to keep up, the massive amount of fat and complex carbs in my diet… ? It’s a moot point.
Actually that’s not true either. It seems like yesterday that I paid for a month of kick-boxing. I’ve been a total of 1 times. what.a.waste.
But that’s ok I’ve got money to burn on memberships I’m not using. It’s not like I just bought a house (excellent foresight…)
Back in the days when I wasn’t moving, I had an environmental conscience….but my carbon foot print has increased drastically. I’m packing lunches in plastic baggies because the tupperware is packed. I’m using garbage bags like nobody’s business to jam things together. … and there’s been a lot of pitching. I’m ashamed to say it. But time and energy levels are low, and my priorities, including my concern for climate change, have also already been packed up and moved to the new house.
Lastly… I’ve let go of my composure. It just doesn’t have a place in moving. Aside from my daily garb, (i.e. un-ironed disheveled mess) I have sporadic thought outbursts.. as if you are inside my head and can know that the phone number I’m asking you for is for that contractor who does interior paint jobs and you mentioned him casually in a conversation to me 3 months ago.
Life in the midst of a move is anything but routine.