I’m Movin’ Out
I finally did it.
It only took six years, but I did it. I’m moving. I’m leaving the known behind and embarking on a whole new adventure. And I must say, there’s something pretty cool about taking stock of your life when it’s being tossed in the garbage and packed up in boxes around you. Even the tape gun is making me excited.
First there’s the kitchen box. There’s Grandma’s cast iron pot, with memories of meatballs and sauce and all the amazing smells that used to come from her kitchen. And the endless supply of cookie sheets and cake pans with visions of the millions of cakes and cookies I’ve made over the years. I may not be an expert chef, but my confidence is in that box. I am a kick-ass baker.
And then there’s the major amounts of crap I’ve never used, and never will use. It’s time to purge – in a big way. And not in the way that will help my waistline.
Onto the living room. Photo albums upon photo albums that tell so many stories, reveal secrets, and show evidence of a happy life. Or was it? An album dedicated to each boyfriend, showing young love, but upon a closer look, heartbreak. There are books that I’ve read so many times the pages are falling out, and ones I haven’t yet opened, for fear they might actually tell me something about myself that I haven’t yet learned. Or haven’t yet wanted to learn. But they are going in the box, because maybe now I can finally read them.
And the bedroom. There are clothes in every size, none of which fits right now, lingerie I could never wear twice, because a relationship never lasted long enough for multiple wearings (or multiple anything else) and for some reason, I have more socks and underwear than any one person ever needs to own. It’s time to get rid of it all. Including my bad attitude.
My new place is great. Small, but great. The best part? That it’s anywhere but here. It’s time to leave the memories behind. Not to say that it has been all bad, but it can’t hurt to leave the place where I had my heart shattered by the love of my life, had my worst career failure to date, a major health scare, and yeah, it definitely won’t hurt to get a little further away from “The Couple.” The lack of beer alone should be good for a five pound loss. And the stay-at-home husband will account for the 200 pound loss.
So will the move make a difference? Maybe. Will it automatically make life a little more bearable? Maybe. Will it put me in a new environment, send me to a new grocery store, and give me 20 new neighbors, maybe one of whom is nice and single and needs a cup of sugar? Hopefully!
Forgot to mention one thing. My new place? Five doors down from an ex-boyfriend.
This should be interesting.
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Movin’ On Up
This may sound crazy, but I think I’m jealous. “Taking stock of your life,” is far from the worst idea I can think of. Purging yourself of old belongings sounds pretty damn healthy to me. I’m in no position to move right now, but if I could, I… might. You are aware that the act of changing addresses is on some master list of the five most stressful changes in a person’s life, right? Try to remember this and give yourself a break while you emotional-ize every room (the kitchen?) of this move. A part of me gets the whole thing – the smells, the pictures, the memories. That’s not the part I’m jealous of. I’m jealous of the part after that. I’m not jealous of your packing. I’m jealous of your unpacking.
New is good… New is sweet… New will get you off your feet. This will be a healthy endeavor for you, if nothing else. This will be like a new coat of paint on an old piece of furniture… It doesn’t look old anymore, it doesn’t look tired. It looks fresh… it looks new. This is the same thing for you, only instead of a piece of furniture, we’re talking about your life. Here’s what the new address will or won’t have that automatically makes it better than your current place:
WON’T HAVE: A sweet, young married couple living upstairs, where the wife works, the husband hangs out with the single neighbor with the nice rack (you), and the single neighbor (you) convinces herself of its innocence – until he hits on you.
WILL HAVE: A different view from the front window… A different grocery store… A different jogging route.
WON’T HAVE: An average of three weeks per year with a hole in the ceiling caused by the annual leak from the apartment above.
WILL HAVE: POSSIBLY: A cool chick neighbor who becomes a good friend. POSSIBLY… A cool guy neighbor that begins as a friendship, with the rest TBA. DEFINITELY… An ex-boyfriend who could easily fall in love with you all over again when he sees you, living only five doors down.
WON’T HAVE: The wicker entertainment center. While it may be one of the few of it’s kind remaining in America, that hardly makes it valuable – or functional. I’m glad you’re leaving this, and much of your other furniture behind. What hurts the wallet can often help the head.
WILL HAVE: You ARE moving with all your “stuff,” right? It’s actually “you” going to this new place -your pots and pans and photo books following behind, right? For better or worse (and I say better), the only constant in a move like this is you. The same person residing at your old address will be the one residing at your new address. This is a good thing for you. Along with a washer/dryer IN the unit, this is the best part of the move for you.
How’s the parking?
