MOVING. That is all I have been doing lately. Every waking moment has been consumed by this great migration: Sorting, packing, hauling, lifting, loading, unpacking, cleaning. And there couldn’t be a worse time to relocate in the desert. I felt like I could ignite at any second.
I’m also on a debt diet, trying to rein in my spending while I save up money for bigger projects and investments. So I haven’t made any wacky, frivolous purchases.
On top of that, I’m doing a wheat-free, sugar-free, alcohol-free, low-fat, low-cal (and many other hyphenated words) detox right now. So I couldn’t even crack open a cold beer on moving day, toast the new apartment with a glass of bubbly or indulge in some well-deserved dark chocolate. Hrumph.
Put all of that together, and you don’t have a lot of room for fun — not even when you’re forcing it. I have been grumpy and snippy and sweaty for almost a week straight. It’s a wonder I’m still married.
Day 10
Lowlight: Packing. How is it possible to spend one year of my life with just a backpack, yet have an entire apartment crammed full of stuff? Where did it all come from? Why am I putting it in boxes?
Highlight: The final night in our tiny, smelly apartment! I celebrated by finally using the Lush Comforter bubble bar that I’ve been saving for a special occasion. It smells like blackcurrant and magically turns the bath water pleasantly purple with stacks of creamy bubbles. It’s like submerging yourself in straight-up Prozac.
Day 11
Lowlight: Instead of hiring a moving van, The Husband and I opted to make hundreds of trips back and forth in his Honda Civic hatchback. This is officially the last time I will ever follow-through on one of our “bright” ideas.
Highlight: Our friends Shad and Xochitl came over with their SUV to give us a hand with the big stuff. With the mattress, we simply stuck it on top of the vehicle. No rope, because we’re badasses like that. (Also because we didn’t have any rope.) Then we rolled down the windows and desperately clung to the bed as we rolled through town. Some people might call that “illegal.” I call it “minimalist.”
Here’s Xochitl, my partner in crime.
Day 12
Lowlight: All the stuff that goes along with moving, including piles of boxes, the inability to locate anything important and two severely traumatized pets who wouldn’t come out from under the bed.
Highlight: First full day in the new place! I unpacked enough kitchen supplies to make a huge batch of soup, so the apartment would smell like a home. The scent also lured in a couple of neighbors who wanted to find out what I was cooking.
Day 13
Lowlight: Cleaning the old apartment. Cleaning until my nails were stripped and my skin began flaking off. Cleaning until I was pale and withered.
Apparently, what sunlight does to vampires, that’s what cleaning does to me.
Highlight: Taking my dog, Lemon, out for a walk in the thunderstorm. I hate that I’m one of those people who puts her dog in a raincoat, but alas, I am — much to the delight of my cooing, giggling neighbors.
Here’s an old photo of Lemon in her action fleece. (She doesn’t hang around long enough in the rain for a photo.)
Day 14
Lowlight: More cleaning in an effort to get our deposit back. I personally consider the deposit to be a renter’s tax, so I dismiss it as a lost cause. I know it’s rare to actually receive the full amount back, and if you believe that time is more important than money (which I do), then why waste it on scrubbing down an old space?
The Husband, however, would have Magic Erasers surgically implanted on his hands if he could. He’d be Edward MagicEraserHands, and he’d star in the lamest Tim Burton movie ever. He believes in the deposit, and he is willing to fight for it.
So we cleaned. And cleaned. And I think we left the place in better condition than when we moved in.
Highlight: Sat on the patio of my new home and savored a cup of steamy hot tea. Home sweet home at last.
