Moving stinks. Royally. I conveniently forgot how painful it was. Seems odd as I talk about it almost daily with my clients. This move felt exceptionally painful. Maybe they are all, and I just forgot. There were so many factors: my packrat tendencies, work schedules, the holidays, discovering Candy Crush, a December business trip to Hawaii, a 4-week sickness caught on that business trip, a chronic bad back, fear of what we were moving into, and movers coming literally the day after our family left from Christmas. We had a couple of months to pack and prepare – and we did a decent job – but it was still a terrible and grueling process.
Our stuff had 4 places to go: to donation, to a local storage unit, to a permanent long-term storage unit and into our rental. These extra choices made it more challenging – at least for me. If it were up to Jonathan everything would be donated. This was yet another fun factor – spousal friction. (laughing) Three days of movers, several friends and organizers later – we made it. Now we are here.
We found a little 2-bedroom 1-bath rental on our street. The fact that we could stay amongst friends and neighbors was really important. So we are compromising on space.
And health, apparently. I thought I’d healed from the sickness I caught in Hawaii, but I became even sicker as soon as we moved into this place. The culprit was filthy ducts. In my effort to make lemonade from life’s lemons – I have learned through this little ordeal I have allergies (to everything!). Now I know and have started a plan to manage them going forward.
Not only will have a new and improved home – there will be an improved me!