It’s been a few years since my last big move. When I moved in with Nick, it was so gradual that I barely noticed that it happened…and the process was accelerated when I became ill and could no longer drive back and forth between abodes. (Nick wanted to take on the task of changing my dressings so that he could still see me every day…he took excellent care of me.)
When we received an offer on our condo that was very close to our minimum acceptable amount, it came with the requirement to be out by the end of the month—pretty stressful when a third of the month was already gone. That, and we both carry a lot of work stress…we rely on a worry-free home to keep us sane.
So anyway, I’m left comparing the two moves even though one was a relocation of 1,200 miles and the other of 10. For what I’ve saved in distance, I’ve made up for in the accumulation of stuff. In the last seven years, I’ve discovered my preferred decorating style and purchased accordingly. It’s a lesson though to be careful on what you wish for: I looked at our storage shelves in the basement several months ago and thought, “Man! I need to move! I’ve got too much stuff!” You see, I moved several times in my 20s…which forced me to live with minimal possessions for reasons of moving-laziness.
We sold our condo both slower than I hoped and faster than I expected. It was so quick that I stopped looking at houses after the one we fell in love with sold. (Why get your heart set on something you probably won’t be able to have?) Now we are (or will be soon) homeless. We will be staying with family while we figure out next steps and save for a bigger downpayment. Sophie may or not move with us, I’m not sure. She’s been staying with Grandma the last month or so for many reasons related to the craziness of showings and stacks of boxes EVERYWHERE.
There are other cats living where we will be staying. Sophie has been an only cat most of her life—and she’s female. The two together scream TERRITORIAL! even though I don’t know that for sure. Our cat has issues with anxiety, so we work pretty diligently to keep her all “calm blue ocean” every day (or she actually becomes ill). We visited her tonight at Grandma’s house, and she seems to be adjusting well there. I miss my Sophie in day-to-day life, but I question the direction that’s best for her instead of me.
SO, I’m really sore and achy, I’m tired, I’m nervous, and I’m ready to be done with boxes for a very long time.