I am moving again. Every time I move I say I am never moving again.
But I always move again so I am not going to say it this time.
I bought a house. Not my “grow old forever in this house”, house…but a good “for the next five years” house. My first house as a single woman.
Excuse me while I dance around singing “all the single ladies” at the top of my lungs pretending I am Beyonce.
Thanks, I am back.
So moving. It sucks.
But I am excited this time because I am truly able to establish myself in a new location and do what I want to do with the space. SO there’s that to look forward to and dread…because it’s overwhelming. I would rather be reading or writing with my free time (me time) right now. But I will be packing and unpacking and settling and decorating and so on and so forth, etc…
It will get done. I’m not worried.
Which is weird cause I worry about everything. But not this, that’s a good sign,
Maybe I am too tired to get worried?
So anyway…I have been packing all day and find myself in an unfocused, rambling mood.
My point about moving is about all the shit you discover when you move. When I moved into this house I was seriously in a hurry. I took very little from my old house. I just wanted to get it done and have it be over. But this packing job I wanted to take my time, pack things properly, go through things and not bring things I don’t need with me.
Looking through things can be dangerous. I found a journal filled with thoughts I wasn’t prepared to remember. I found a photo I didn’t know I had of my mom who died about six years ago. I found a stack of divorce notes I didn’t want to look through. I found books I hadn’t found the time to read. I found a card from my former mother in law that was filled with so much love that it stopped me in my packing tracks for a solid 15 minutes. I found a broken piece of art that I hadn’t ever tried to glue back together. I stumbled across a beautiful box of chocolates that I never got to eat and had turned grey from age.
Memory lane is a dangerous place. Scary sometimes. But good. Important.
You just have to move through it and keep packing. Packing is methodical and you can get lost in your thoughts while you do it. SO it’s probably an excellent time for memory lane.
It reminded me of how in love I once was. How much I have been loved in my life.
It reminded me of moving out of my marital home a year ago and how horribly sad it all felt. How I felt like the world was crushing me and my feet were stuck in quicksand. I don’t feel that with this move. I feel light and free. What a contrast.
I spent the day letting myself miss my mom. It was a happy longing, a “god I wish she were here right now driving me crazy with her packing advice” sort of missing.
I got to hang out with a couple of my favorite people. The kind who show up at your house and help you pack. Praise be to GOD for those friends.
Oh, and I also accepted one very important reality.
I have too many shoes. And clothes.
I drug all of these shoes out and put them on the floor and made myself access each pair. I got rid of 40 pairs of shoes. Now these are a lifetime of shoes. I am an actress so many of these shoes are “stage shoes” rather than real life shoes. But it’s ridiculous that I have so many. It’s also ridiculous that I struggle to get rid of any of them. But what if I need them someday?
I like shoes. And that’s the cool part about being in my 40’s….I don’t really care what anyone thinks about my shoe addiction. I like them. So there.
I also filled a giant box of goodwill clothing. I intend to fill another one tomorrow. But I will still have too many shoes and clothes. I am ok with that.
Tonight, while I sleep, as a reward for throwing out lots of 20 year old shoes and clothes, I would like the moving fairies to come to my house and magically transport all of my belongings to the new house, clean and repair the old house so I can get my deposit back, and set up the new house in the perfect arrangement.
And hang up all the pictures too.
Yeah, moving totally sucks.