I mentioned the other day that the yarn I had sealed in some Space Bags had lost their seal and had re-inflated. When I went to suck the air out again, I discovered the reason. Some of the yarn had been sucked up underneath the rubber stopper preventing it from creating a seal. So I rearranged and re-sucked and everything is working well. My bad.
We’re down to crunch time for packing. We have less than one week before we want to be 95% packed. I have no way of estimating what percentage we’re at right now. And I haven’t packed much since I finished packing up the books. But we did make some progress last night as B-Money spent some time and muscle breaking down our corner desk and organizing the back room. It is now moving HQ. Here’s everything we’ve packed so far. Doesn’t look like much.
There are two rows of boxes stacked almost to the ceiling, neatly labeled and color-coded. Side note, that box on the bottom that says FRAGILE! is leftover from our move into this suite 3 years ago, including the contents. I’m actually enjoying packing. I really like organizing and labeling and being in uber-control of everything. I thought about taking photos of each box’s contents but someone said that was too much. Plus I’ve written the contents on the boxes so it shouldn’t be necessary. We’ll see
I think part of the reason we didn’t get a lot of packing done yesterday was because we both hit a wall. I think we are emotionally and mentally spent. Our summers are usually busier than most. To add a cross-continent move at the end of it was the basketball-sized cherry on top. But I have been learning so much about my husband and myself with each hurdle we’ve jumped this summer. I’m learning that I’m a deny-er and he’s a process-er. When it comes to good-byes, I just want to hurry up and get them over with. Rather than thinking about the major life changes coming up, I change the subject. Even if it’s in my own mind. I’ll start singing or turn on the t.v. or some times I’ll physically turn myself away from whatever it was that stirred up those emotions in me. But this morning as I got up for my 3:45am pee (sorry if that’s TMI), I was hit with a feeling. I can’t quite put a finger on it, but I didn’t like it. It wasn’t sadness or being scared. I think it was more akin to ominous stress. So as I’ve thought about it and asked God to show me what to do with it, I’ve decided that I think I need to make myself talk about it. I don’t like talking about stuff. But as I’ve learned in the past it’s going to make its way to the surface eventually.
So here it is. I’m so excited to live close to family and old friends again. But I’m overwhelmed by all that moving entails. Packing up our memories is going to be hard work. Starting over even though it’s our mother land is going to be hard work. It’s easier to pretend like people here don’t mean that much to me so I don’t have to care about leaving them.
It’s going to be okay. I know. I just want it to hurry up and be okay. 😉 There is a passage from the Bible that I have been looking to as the truth (as opposed to the crazy thoughts that run through my head like ugly streakers at a baseball game). It’s a few verses from Psalm 16, but the rest of the chapter is just as encouraging.
The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.
P.S. Do you know where we could get cheap moving boxes? I’m okay with the free produce boxes I’ve gotten from the market but I’m also wary of them because I don’t want them to rot or make my stuff stink…