Change might be good for the soul but it’s a bitch on the body and the mind.
New beginnings are awesome. Painful … but awesome. I’m still waiting for the awesome part to kick in.
Three weeks of being submerged in bubble wrap, 19 rolls of packing tape, 84 boxes and at least a ton of packing peanuts have resulted in 3 storage units filled to the brim with everything we own. Did I mention that the moving company we hired advised us two days before our move date (at 4:45 in the afternoon) they could not handle our move? Can we say “panic”?
I found some wonderful, professional moving guys that were willing to bring a U-Haul and pack it all in. We’ve since taken up residency in a Residence Inn (which we are sharing with our two cats and our bossy dog), and are in a waiting pattern for our new home to be ready to receive us.
So far, we’ve been dislodged for a week and I can’t lie … I’m going stark raving mad. It doesn’t help knowing that we are looking at another 2 weeks before we can move out of the hotel and into our new home. Being in a waiting mode isn’t nearly as relaxing as I anticipated it would be.
I thought after the ongoing trauma of packing for 3 weeks straight, filling two and half trash bins with items we couldn’t live without but never used or needed, donating 14 boxes to the needy and consigning a lovely dining room set, a chandelier and an antique baby buggy, that we would welcome a time to just veg, read and relax.
While I do feel a bit like a boxer who just lost 10 rounds with a world champ; exhausted, disoriented and a little depressed, it turns out waiting around is definitely not my thing.
I cannot receive mail, can’t find any of the clothes I thought I brought with me, the toiletries are lacking and the only thing we have in abundance is cat and dog food (thank God for small favors!). I only have 2 pairs of shoes (what was I thinking?) and enough underwear to last 10 days. Did you know it costs $2 to do laundry at a hotel? The things you learn!
I miss my Sleep Number bed, my friends in the city, TIVO, my familiar stomping grounds and my clients’ smiling faces. I miss knowing where the hell I’m driving and knowing where all the great happy hour places are.
Moving from one city to the next requires one to be resourceful, patient, inquisitive, considerate, and persevering. Three out of five isn’t bad.
I know this is all going to work out for the best in the long run. It’s the short run that is driving me crazy. I’m excited to be in our new home, to make new friends, connect with old ones and start painting a new life on a fresh canvas. So, why is this so hard?
I’ve come to the conclusion that leaving a life behind is never easy, no matter how anxious you are to start a new one.
Downsizing and relocating means distancing yourself from places, people and things that you are emotionally attached to. It means cutting ties to the old and embracing the new. It means conforming, adapting, exploring and sleeping in strange surroundings. It’s beyond exhausting and exasperating.
Fortunately we’ve landed in one of the friendliest places on earth, the Palm Desert area. We’ve owned and loved it here for over 14 years. Making it our main residence wasn’t a stretch. Until now.
Saying goodbye to an old life means being open to a new one. That’s a concept I can embrace.
Is it too much to ask to embrace it in a real home surrounded by all my personal belongings, a frig stocked with all our favorite things, a closet and drawers filled with all my stuff, and Wi-Fi that isn’t being powered by two hamsters on a wheel?
Some people are so demanding.
If you are thinking about a big move or a change in your lifestyle, I’m giving you a big, long hug. You will need it.
At the moment, I can’t help but click my heels together three times: there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.
We may be homeless at the moment, but we are officially desert rats. Wish us luck!