Move as defined: to pass from one place or position. Or there is this definition: to advance or
progress. I prefer the second definition.
I tried to keep progress in mind through the recent nightmare, it was
difficult.
We progressed 2 times in 5 days. I was ready to pull my hair out. I had
several private hissy fits: public ones are so unbefitting. I knew last February that July was going to
be a dicey month. There would be a gap
between lease dates: 5 days. The new
company thought they could make it work. In the end they could not, the new place was
not ready.
On the 13th , my 3 sons, one of their girlfriends, 2 friends, and my Significant other (SIO)
moved the contents of my townhouse into a warehouse. There were over 200 boxes plus furniture and
Barbie’s massive empire. Three months of
my OCD packing and hard work had paid off for just this type of situation. My
oldest son, recalled helping me on a previous move years ago when I was not in
charge and remarked that it had not gone as smoothly as this one. One load was left on the truck; this was
marked to be moved Thursday evening, the first of the multiple moves. This too
was a backup plan from months earlier. Obviously,
I am really bad at math: Saturday, Thursday and the next Saturday. That does make 3, correct? Ugh.
Saturday evening, My 2 youngest children and I began our 4
day camp in with my mother. Now I love
my mother, however staying with her was challenging; I had given up camping
years ago. We tripped over each, didn’t have our own
space and waited impatiently for move in day. Thursday the 18th, another group of
friends and my sons unloaded the truck.
Half way through, we found the bag of “fresh” produce that had been picked
up the previous Saturday and packed without my knowledge. After a week of hot temperatures, it had fully ripened into an odor that called to
every wild beast for miles.
Saturday was warehouse day and we did it all again with a
much smaller crew; your friends can only take so much. I should do an Xfinity commercial like that now
running with the guy trying to find help to move. Amazingly, the work went faster than before
with less people. Perhaps it was the
croissants from Our Daily Bread, one of the best bakeries in town, inspiring
the crew to work more efficiently.
Since moving in, my OCD kicked into overdrive, there have been
many late nights and early mornings spent unpacking. Did I mention this entire month is a
restricted time in my office? We are not
allowed to take time off. It’s our busy
time at the University. Campus is swarming
with 5000 new freshman and their parents, preparing for Fall. Wondering around, maps in hand, gazing up at
our lime stone buildings and dreaming of that first exam. I can only dream of unpacking my next box .
Out of 200 boxes, the count is down to 20. The kitchen is my worst nightmare. It is waiting for my oldest daughter to
arrive this week. She wrote the book on
organization. She is the case study for
OCD manifestations. They say every
generation improves on its gene pool right?
She will set it right and then some.
Now to the missing items:
Last night during dinner with my SIO, I was lamenting over missing
items. SIO, trying to calm me took me to
the warehouse to show me that everything had in fact been removed. “It must be in the house somewhere”. He gave me an evil wink and told me “It
could be in your mother’s museum.” I slapped
my forehead. The place IS a museum. I have stored a few things there, all carefully
marked. The thought of spending time
precious unpacking time there is unnerving, knowing I could get distracting by
cleaning up another mess. Help! I could be lost for hours cleaning up
something I really didn’t intend to do.
Sometimes I just can’t stop myself. It’s the OCD kicking in and kicking
my “you-know-what”.
I have been asking myself how long I can live without these
items. It can probably be done except for one.
The most important item missing, the desktop computer monitor is
vital. It is clearly marked, as were all
the other items. This fact alone leaves
me baffled. How did these things 3-5
boxes go AWOL? I was careful to mark
everything. And yet now I cannot find
them. Everyone says in a move things go
missing and you find them months later.
Months later… are you kidding me?
The monitor is needed now.
I have been to mom’s several times in the past few days
looking. Today I will be there again and
will not leave until I find the monitor.
There are two possible outcomes:
I will find the monitor or I will be laying in her front yard throwing a
hissy fit just like I did when I was 3 years old. I am
my mother’s daughter. If I am going to
throw a fit, it’s best I do it in front of her
The new place is great.
It’s beautifully old, quirky and I can walk to work. It’s right downtown where we love to spend
time in our charming Burg. We are going
to be very happy here.
Peace
NEPB
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