More on Moving... Stupid toilet scrubber!

I know. I know. At first I was all: I’m 40. I’m 40. I’m 40. Then it was: I need to get laid. I need to get… (Let’s just stop there on that one.) Then it was, and still kinda has been: Watt, Watt, Watt. Now it’s moving, moving, moving (those buttheads suck, suck, suck). But that’s life. Whatever we’re going through, we’re going through it, through it, through it. That is, until, we go through something else, else, else.

Rena sent me an email today, and I responded, long winded of course. So, I thought I’d share.

Subject: Hey Sista...

Would you like some help with packing tomorrow? I could come over early and help out.

I think this move will open up "new & exciting" opportunities....very happy for you. I know moving is a bitch but it allows you to purge through stuff.

Hugs,

Rena

My response:

You know what? I would love to see your beautiful face. So, yes. Come. Come. Come!

Give me time to sleep in until 9:00 and go for a quick run, so any time after 10:45 am would be great. Wear grubbies, because the things that I am doing, at this point, are cleaning last minute stuff before it gets packed/moved into the new place. I want everything to be sparkly. Point is: I don't want anything you wear to get ruined by the messy environment. (I've been trying to patch wall holes as I go—there are so many more holes in the wall then I put in—so there's some spackle dust, from my first lame attempts at not knowing how to spackle a holes, mixed in with basic moving dust/dirt/general messy annoyance.)

Yes, I feel this is a good change, that my life is just propelling forward. But, it is exhausting! 13 years of stuff in one place...that's a lot. And by stuff I mean more than schtuff. :>)

Have you ever noticed, though, before the change comes, before the move, or the new thing(s) have room to come in, there is a lot of rearranging?

Take moving. Change is just like moving. You pack something up (you take care of something). Then you move what you just packed-up (took care of) over to there. Then when you go to pack something else up—take take care of some other thing(s)—that thing you just packed needs to be dealt with again, it needs to get moved to somewhere else. More shifting, more dealing.

It's like the old things you thought you took care of crop back up again and again. Apparently they need to be packaged and repacked, and then moved around, and around again, and then examined from every angle before any of the dust can settle for them.

Then, inevitably, yet something else needs to be dealt with, packed up, surveyed. There goes the dust, getting kicked back up again. Whatever this new thing is, it doesn't look shiny yet, does it? There goes acceptance moving in. Things do need to settle before we really see what got opened up.

It's all just a bunch of shifting and compartmentalizing, and, eventually, purging and clearing. In the end, we let go of most of everything, hopefully. Or, sadly, we saddle others with what we held onto.

Seriously, packing does feel like learning life's lessons. It is not until you deal with something, really deal with it, that it is able to go on the journey with you or get left behind. I've gotten rid of so much in this move. There are other things I am keeping, and they are only coming with me for convenience. But, I'd be happy to let go of those things, too. (I'm getting less and less attached to the tangible and only holding on to that which holds sentiment if it serves a function.)

It probably won't look like I got rid of a lot when you see my place, but whoa have I done some unloading. Almost 8 black trash bags of cloths to start. Decided that, hypothyroidism or not, I ain’t gonna hang onto everything in every size. And, from here on out, if anything new comes in, at least one thing, possibly two, needs to go out!

Put simply, and ditching the metaphorical moving/packing/change analogy...while this is all good, as you put it, moving is a bitch and I'm getting kinda sick of moving the same shit 2-3 times to stack re-stack/make room as I pack more.

If only there was a way to just load and unload, like buying groceries. It all goes in a bag, goes in a car, goes in a cupboard. Simple. You know what's in the bag because the bag is open. It's a great open, flowing cycle: get groceries, bag 'em, un bag 'm, eat it, trash or recycle the rest.

Boxes? Not an open cycle. Mark them boxes all you want: Bedroom, Living room, Kitchen, Bathroom...the toilet scrubber still ends up in the box with the kitchen blender. (Well, that's just gross, but you get it.) No matter how much you start off all badass and organized, some dumb box needs to be filled and it is only that thing from another room that turns out to be the perfect thing to round the box out before it gets taped up! (Frig'n pack'n!)

Aye, aye, aye. No wonder our brains are just as overloaded when we attempt to work things out. We all have toilet scrubbers lodged into our thought processes and then the liquefy button on the blender gets pushed. That’s how we end up with the mental runs. (Man, I’m gross today.)


I'm brain dead. I just want to get packing and move stuff taken care of. (You know what a machine I am when something needs to get done.)

Anyway, this too-long email was obviously a diversion... :>) Thanks for playing!

L