Moving Stinks

Everyone knows moving is a pain. For weeks before (and weeks after), disarray is the norm. We have boxes about the house, and we've barely started organizing for a long-distance move. In coming weeks, we need to donate, sell, and dispose of as much as we can without parting with anything we'd later miss. Of course, I'm the sort of person to miss anything we leave behind.

Coordinating the move is practical logistics: events have to happen in near-perfect order. My wife and I over-plan, and yet we will both feel unprepared until the move is complete. We will worry about every detail between now and August.

The cats hated today, which began with two workers installing five new interior doors. I disliked it, too, but it sure was fast and painless versus us doing the work. But, Pumpkin Kitty ("PK") was truly annoyed. I have the two puncture marks on my right hand (thankfully, the less-sensitive hand) where PK bit down and wouldn't let go. He is still hiding several hours later.

Moving also means dealing with the real estate agent, the mortgage broker, the lender, the home inspector, and the appraiser — all from a time zone and 530 miles away. This leaves us in the position of having to trust men and women we've never met. It's a strange feeling, but sometimes you have to take a leap of faith in human nature.

I'm trying to focus on projects to complete before moving. It is tough to focus with the impending move on my mind. Focus is a challenge for me on good days. Now, focus is even more challenging.

I remember how much I hated moving to and from college every year. I don't know how I managed, but I'm sure the idea home was "only" four hours away helped. Forget something? Drive home over the weekend. A household move is different.

If I don't post blog entries on a regular basis, the move is probably why.