I hate packing. I fucking hate it. I always said I'd pay to have the movers pack for me if I had to move again, but considering how impractical that all seems, we decided to do the majority of it ourselves. I'm dreading those final boxes that we pack labeled "MISC."... and the annoyance that results when you can't figure out the right way to pack garbage cans, power strips, brooms, telephones and perishables at the last second. And then it's usually impossible to find that very box when you get to your final destination... what box did we put the dish rack in? Oh, and did I even consider to pack clothing in something other than a "wardrobe box"? Because I might be wearing the same black tank tops for the next 3 months...
My home that I made cozy over the last 2 years is being dismantled and is crumbling into dustbunnies. Our walls are empty. I'm dreading the wrap-up party for the fragile shit in the china cabinet. Padding the champagne flutes makes me nervous. And the antique sugar bowl from my mom's cousin...
The kids toys and the kitchen will be the last things to get packed, for fear of bringing on too much emotional trauma too quickly in the mind of the 4 year old! Meanwhile, I'm feeling on and off sick... trying to piece together the "right" way to approach this relocation. Will it be permanent? Do I want it to be? Am I going to throw in the towel and settle on being a Vermonter for the rest of my life? Will I ever EVER get to visit Manhattan in the next 2 years? Why is the Manchester airport 1.5 hours from Norwich? Why is Nantucket even farther than that?
In this swirl of Unknowns I'm frightened of how apathetic I am. I don't really care about my own mental health because I'm too concerned about my sensitive little monkeys that have to leave their best friends and excellent school. I literally have gotten really good at shrugging my shoulders over this process... we moved to NYC in 2001, we moved back to Burlington in 2002, and then again to another Burlington spot in 2003, and then left Burlington for Providence in 2006. Experts! Myles likes to tell me that the average American family moves 3-5 times in their lifetime. But that just gives me another reason to believe that Americans are a bunch of misdirected loonies!
On that note, I've killed my reserve battery power... goodnight.
1 comment:
Man, I totally feel your pain. I haven't had to do it with kids (luckily) but I've moved 7 times since I graduated college 8 years ago. I hate those fucking miscellaneous boxes!
I'm sure you will find a way to make Norwich your home... you may not get to Manhattan as easily or often as you'd like, but think of all the bitchin' dinner parties you can have in that kitchen! And Vermont has got to have some good schools for the girls.... right?
Tough stuff, lady, but I know you can handle it. You're amazing!
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