It's finally hitting me that I'm leaving this place where I've lived 17+ years. I felt like a zombie yesterday--drained of living emotion, even walking felt like enormous effort.
I feel better this morning, just a bit stunned.
One of the astronauts said that traveling between Earth and Moon, you see nothing but empty space--no way markers--so it was weird that after a couple days of feeling like you're going nowhere, all of a sudden, boom, you're there. At the Moon.
It's like that living in one place for so long---of course there are markers, but staying in place smooths out time. Preparing to move, I feel all that time hitting me at once. Well, not all, but definitely a lot at once. For instance, I'm remembering my mother being alive when I moved in here (she died some eight months later), and many people I've known as an adult, some of them since gone, one way or another, have passed through this apartment...
I have NO regrets about moving.
If I did, I'd only have to look at the yard outside my window--which I can hardly avoid, since they cut down the trees.
Here, a quick laptop shot from the porch: can you see, it looks like a tornado has hit?
And I wake to the sound of power tools. That's not improving my mood. Nor is reading the Economist--I practically had a panic attack, reading about the state of the world--it's like that yard next door--except some of it's not going to be put back together again.
I thought about canceling my subscription, but decided that I'll just not read that newspaper for a month or so, until I'm settled.
I'm looking forward to house/dog-sitting my new place tonight!
Though the house is chaotic at the moment, it's a friendly scene.
I'm taking my laptop and the Orphan Reds. If my old place were to burn down while I'm gone, I wouldn't mind.
I'm off to work in a few minutes.
It's BOOK'S ONLY DAY! Yay. I like cashiering, but it means I work with only books for two days. (The other days I sort books after I cashier, which is OK.)
I'm going to sign up for a First Aid class, because I think I might need it at the cash register.
Turns out, the guy I sent to the ER was only having muscle spasms, thankfully!
He came by and said thank you to me. I was so relieved to see him alive and well, I came around the counter and hugged him.
The medical people told him to start exercising. (He is middle-aged and overweight.) That happened to my mother too, toward the end of her life: after years of almost total inactivity, her back went into such bad spasms, she could hardly stand.
We are designed to move.
ooh, I did a google image search for "designed to move" and found it's a Nike campaign (of course), and also this cool photo of seeds!
From Arizona U.
I feel better this morning, just a bit stunned.
One of the astronauts said that traveling between Earth and Moon, you see nothing but empty space--no way markers--so it was weird that after a couple days of feeling like you're going nowhere, all of a sudden, boom, you're there. At the Moon.
It's like that living in one place for so long---of course there are markers, but staying in place smooths out time. Preparing to move, I feel all that time hitting me at once. Well, not all, but definitely a lot at once. For instance, I'm remembering my mother being alive when I moved in here (she died some eight months later), and many people I've known as an adult, some of them since gone, one way or another, have passed through this apartment...
I have NO regrets about moving.
If I did, I'd only have to look at the yard outside my window--which I can hardly avoid, since they cut down the trees.
Here, a quick laptop shot from the porch: can you see, it looks like a tornado has hit?
And I wake to the sound of power tools. That's not improving my mood. Nor is reading the Economist--I practically had a panic attack, reading about the state of the world--it's like that yard next door--except some of it's not going to be put back together again.
I thought about canceling my subscription, but decided that I'll just not read that newspaper for a month or so, until I'm settled.
I'm looking forward to house/dog-sitting my new place tonight!
Though the house is chaotic at the moment, it's a friendly scene.
I'm taking my laptop and the Orphan Reds. If my old place were to burn down while I'm gone, I wouldn't mind.
I'm off to work in a few minutes.
It's BOOK'S ONLY DAY! Yay. I like cashiering, but it means I work with only books for two days. (The other days I sort books after I cashier, which is OK.)
I'm going to sign up for a First Aid class, because I think I might need it at the cash register.
Turns out, the guy I sent to the ER was only having muscle spasms, thankfully!
He came by and said thank you to me. I was so relieved to see him alive and well, I came around the counter and hugged him.
The medical people told him to start exercising. (He is middle-aged and overweight.) That happened to my mother too, toward the end of her life: after years of almost total inactivity, her back went into such bad spasms, she could hardly stand.
We are designed to move.
ooh, I did a google image search for "designed to move" and found it's a Nike campaign (of course), and also this cool photo of seeds!
From Arizona U.
Moving to me is always with such mixed emotions. The excitement to be somewhere new but the fear that it may be a mistake. But here I would say the right choice has been made.
ReplyDeleteWaking to power tools every morning would not improve my mood either and adding in the loss of the wonderful tree would have been the final straw. I always mourn the loss of trees except when they are really old and dead and you realize that the next winter storm could take it out and cause a lot of damage!!
Good news about the man not having a heart attack!
The photos of the seeds are incredible especially to see them up close.
Enjoy the first night!
Kirsten
I always find moving exciting -- a fresh start! It's harder when you really LOVE where you live, but as you point out, there are positives in moving for you!
ReplyDeleteI’ve never taken advantage of moving as a way to lighten the load — I’ve always schlepped it all with me. (I don’t count retirement as moving.) I admire your choice to make moving a way of letting some things go.
ReplyDelete