My six days of vacation are nearly over; I return to work tomorrow. And they’ve been a whirlwind of near-constant activity.
This, unlike any other move, has been the most labour-intensive, the most dizzying, the most frazzling, the most wonderful and most gratifying move I’ve ever had.
You know, I’ve moved six times since 2000? Once from the place I shared with my folks into the house. Then out of the house apartment into the Meridian Apartments. Then to Hunstville and back again. Then to the tiny, nay miniscule, apartment down the street. And now, finally, to our house.
I used to love moving, getting to pack all the boxes, label them, fitz around and map out where everything was going to go. But this move was entirely different – we had both booked off a week to do the move and packed almost nothing before we got the keys to the house. Then Saturday we began painting, both our parents helping out, painting and spackling and doing some minor repairs. Sunday was the big item move, cleaning out the cat-fur infested apartment that clearly showed the six months of neglect inflicted upon it of the major pieces but leaving behind piles and piles of books, clothes, incidentals and the entire kitchen – looking to all the world like we weren’t moving at all.
And then I forgot to take my thyroid medicine on Saturday – and that always catches up with me the next day. So, add frazzled move to frazzled thyroid and you get one frazzled girl! But the guys who helped up did an incredible job (even if Brent razzed me relentlessly). We got the new household items in, a dryer, a freezer (BLISS), and the coolest damn table – this large square thing with a lazy susan and eight chairs, all bar-sized.
After it all, the next three days had me and Todd ferrying boxes back and forth. I begged for liquor/booze boxes, those being ideal for moving all manner of heavy books. I got large fruit boxes (not bad, but too big) and heaps of banana boxes that have, wait for it, giant holes in the bottom. Back and forth, all day long, every day.
Today we were nearly done – if we hadn’t returned from the apartment early to wait for the Staples delivery truck (they were bringing me a shelf for my kitchen and all my cooking books), we would have done the final vaccuum and been done with the apartment. Done with the white-trash infested hole, which had no longer just one vomit stain by the ground flour, but three new ones that our friends had to contend with on moving day. Thank you fellow tenants, and good-bye!
Every day the house feels a little more like hours. My stove works well, getting a good heat. I made pizza tonight, and we lounged together in front of the TV.
In our house.
Warm, happy, fuzzy thoughts.