Moving Day

A picture of a tired-looking (but clean!) Sluss in the exact spot from whence I blog on this moving day morning. Merry Moving Day. No Merry Christmas--I am leaving the Christmas stuff behind. I just don't think there's that much room in my apartment. My decorations actually deserve an apartment of their own!

Liann's couch has been pushed to the fireplace to make room for the movers to work. I climb over the side to sit in it like it's the General Lee. Liann has fled to her parents' house to try to catch a nap. It was a long night. She tried to go to bed about 10 p.m., but I was packing over her head until almost 2 a.m. Then we were up by about 5:30 a.m. So now I sit in a corner of my living room, hemmed in by couch and piles of stuff, while six movers pack around me in a flurry I have rarely seen.

I spent a few hours trying to get sleep last night before they came, but most of it was just me with a stomach ache like a 5-year-old who knows they are in trouble. I know I am supposed to go north, but last night was hard. Liann got a stomach ache yesterday helping me pack. And last night, when I finally collapsed on the couch and tried to at least grab a few winks, nothing but undone stuff and silly decisions ran through my mind.

A sampling:

• "Aauughh! I'm never gonna get my suitcase packed for the drive up before they get here at 7:30 a.m. I gotta get underwear outta my bedroom before they pack it all..."
• "What was I thinking agreeing to two years of DSL service in Idaho just to get that reduced rate? The cancellation fee if I dump it early is probably $500!" (Turns out it's $200...still horrid.)
• "Oh geez..Don't forget to unplug everything the movers are moving...gotta do that."
• "Criminey! How in the world did I wind up with this much stuff separated to go into the cars? Good grief..."

You see my fun. Add me cuddled under a blanket with an ice pack on my back and you've got the full vision of beauty. Add some sweat, too. It was warm, but too cool when the breeze came through the window not to be covered up. I was too tired to even move the junk at the end of the couch, so when I would stretch I would just push the remotes and papers and boxes with my feet.

Then part way through this morning I remembered I was supposed to be taking pictures of this process for my mom. Finding two pastel golfballs that had rolled under the couch from her birthday gift in April helped remind me :)

Sitting on the deck and watching things pile up in the driveway and make their way down to the lift gate on the truck (to be shuttled to a much bigger tractor trailer that is parked in a turnout on 330), Liann and I talked about how surreal this is. We think maybe it's like being at your own wedding, where it feels weird that this is really about you, not someone else. Liann thinks maybe it's like being at your own funeral ;)

As I heard the truck come down the street this morning and I headed down the stairs to open the door, I just prayed out loud for everyone's safety, and reminded the Lord that I am not smart enough to handle this. That's good news.

Liann is starting to get peeved that she "can't find &*#%" in the house. I better get on the road tomorrow morning!

Thanks to EVERYONE for their prayers. For both of us!