I don’t know how many times I’ve said, ‘just one more box,’ in the last two weeks, but I refuse to go get the one more box I still need. I am going to unpack something at the new house and bring back a box to finish up. I have to go back and forth a couple of times anyway, so that is how I’m going to get away with that.
I want to say, “I’m done!” but and however, all of these boxes still have to be unpacked after the movers get them moved.
The benefits of moving and its wonderful possibilities should be kept in mind when the reality of the torture you are inflicting upon yourself settles in. Sanity is elusive at this point in the process.
I loaded Christmas wreaths in the pickup and then my daughter called – floating the idea of them coming home so all of us can be together for Christmas. Whoopie! The thought of my three grandkids together for the holidays is enough to get me through the next week.
The painters e-mailed that they were starting two days late but promised they would be done before the movers arrive with the furniture. I sure hope so. I also hope I like the colors. Everyone who knows me well is a little skeptical of that one. Have faith people! Not that I haven’t painted a few of these rooms more than once, okay several times, before I got it just right. I figure painting is one way I make a home my home.
So, here we go. The movers come tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed that everything arrives in one piece and undamaged, and that my sanity stays intact.
My prayers are with the families of Flight 370. I can only imagine the anguish of not knowing what happened to one of my children. I can only imagine the fear of thinking my country is being taken over. With that in mind, moving isn’t so bad after all.