It seems I am obsessing over this whole moving business. I think more or less it's because the whole process is just kicking my butt. There's been a lot going on, anyway, and without all that chaos, the move just compounds matters and so it's become a sort of love hate relationship I've got with my decision. Not the decision overall. Definitely glad I made it. But remember Samantha on Bewitched? Remember that cool thing she could do with her nose? I want that nose. I want this to be over with. With a mere twitch and twiddle of a nose.
Here's me when I'm NOT in the zen of moving, as an earlier entry suggested I was: (It seems so, so long ago.)
- I look around the room. It overwhelms me, so
- I walk from that room to another one. It isn't important which one I go to. Just another one from that one.
- I stand in the doorway of new room and look around. I walk to the other side of the room and pick something up. I carry it to one of the forty eleven thousand boxes that fill my house and drop it randomly into the bottom. It thuds with an empty, hollow sound. I reconsider. There must be a box for this kind of thing already. Where could that box be?
- I pick the thing up out of the box and roam from room to room looking for the closest match. When I find it I'm mighty satisfied with myself and drop the thing into that box. This time there is no hollow thud.
- I look around much like a person awakening from a coma. Where was I? I know I've been here before. There must be a reason I'm here now.
- I pick something up...maybe a whole box. I walk to another room. There's another spot on the floor that seems better, somehow, than where this box used to sit.
- I put the box down and feel better. See, it's the same size as the box beside it. That'll make things easier when it comes time to tape the box closed and take it to my veryfavoritestorageunit.
No, it's not really that bad. Not usually, although I was pretty much giving you a glimpse into what has indeed happened along the way. Not so long ago.
On the other hand, I have a totally rockin' system of organization over at the storage unit I'm trying to get all my friends to come see. "Why?" they wonder. I think that's a very odd question. Why wouldn't you want to come see everything I own (or most of it,) sitting so tidily packed in such a neat system that there's room to walk and turn around and more? I can't begin to imagine!
Maybe they just want to wait to be really, really impressed when I have it all over there. All, that is, except for what will be with me in my new bedroom at Jan's house. I hope this isn't freaking her out too much. She is very excited about my coming. She tells me so and convinced me to come live with her instead of the other two places I was asked to consider, before I start planning my trips. It's just that she works full time, has gone back to grad school, just sent her only child off to college, and has, herself, just moved into this place. With all she has going on, she's not completely settled yet, herself. So what's one more room full of somebody else's junk gonna' matter, right?