changing lives since 2003 (ms_pooka) wrote,
changing lives since 2003

The Move. And how it can no longer be escaped with any dignity.

we're still moving into the country club house. everything's real quiet on the buying a house front. strange after so much time and communication (and money) spent on getting to this point. eye of the storm. eye of the tiger. tiger by the tail. let's have buttery pancakes.

i've recently defined for myself, and for people carrying part of my genetic code, that there is a point during a major decision where you have locked yourself far enough in that escape would make you look like a caged animal breaking free and running out on to the highway, meaning it's just crazy enough to keep you from doing it, and it's at that point you have just enough psychological freedom to realize your feet are wrapped in blocks of ice. cold feet, that is.

as soon as we got through the offer process and the inspection process and the repairs amendment process and were just down to the part where we wait for the money people to tell us we're okay on the money, i started feeling kind of terrified and all what-do-we-think-we're-doing-ish. i didn't want to do any drive bys. i didn't want to see it online, for the most part. like, it was safe for me to start freaking out and hanging by a thread while i considered not selling our condo after all.

and then, last week, i was looking for the link to send to my sister when oliver, who has been very excited non-stop about starting his artcamp-turned-school-in-the-backyard, tumbled by and started looking at the photos with me. and then, he said something about how he would miss our house or didn't want to leave our house. and moments later, he was in the fetal position on the floor by my chair crying.

i'll tell you. he's a little guy, but he's next to impossible to break out of that position when he doesn't want to be. i gave him a moment and then acted like i was adrienne doing some of that olympic-style power lifting and i hefted him up mightily on to my lap, still curled up like an unbaked baby.

i had a long talk with him and explained how he is not alone in feeling that way and i laid out in detail my vast experience with moving and feeling that same way and how super wise i am for knowing that it is a temporary feeling and new memories will be made. i told him how pissed i was the day we got in the condo and i realized how over-the-top wonky that set of three, interlinked light switches are and how there was a scuff here and a scratch there and that cabinet door doesn't close and i burst into hot tears. brian stood there getting his feelings hurt that i wasn't bathing naked and six months pregnant in a stream of champagne. being a robot, he only can have so many feelings at once and he was already over-extended beyond the comprehension of where i was tumbling around. and then i told oliver we should list all the good things about where we are going and he completely did not remember that there is a playground right there at the end of the block.

that was the last of him freaking out. now it's my turn. i'm in that phase where i pack a bunch of boxes and feel like, whelp, there we have it. i have packed up everything we own. and i spin around and realize not a dang thing looks any different. and i imagine how much money we would have if we hadn't bought 75% of these things and i panic some more over the blight of over-consumption and how my little corolla is going to get most of this stuff over there even while making three trips a day for two weeks.

oh, the couple who has bought our condo and who thankfully asked to move the initial closing date from 11/9 to 11/30, thusly giving us those two glorious weeks of moving, finally sold their townhome and started asking us to give them back 9 of those days. sorry, but that ship has sailed. no indian giving around here, even though we are a house full of cherokees.
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