I wrote this over a month ago right after the movers finished packing everything but hadn’t loaded the truck yet.
I’m sitting in my house by myself. It’s not for the last time, but pretty close. I dropped Nate off at the airport so he could get back for work tomorrow. The movers just left. There is cardboard all over our little house – covering the floors, stacked against the walls, holding all our physical belongings. The furniture is still left, so I’m sitting on the couch. It’s something Nate and I did a lot this weekend, enjoying couches and chairs and beds – basically anything padded to sit on above the ground.
Our carefully painted walls hung with photos and artwork are again bare. You can see how many tries it took us to get the nails in the right position. The movers complimented me on my kitchen organization. Score.
It’s kind of unnerving yet oddly familiar to see the boxes everywhere. We just did this, although today I sweat significantly less than usual. That’s the great thing about movers: the do everything, and so quickly. Tomorrow they will come and load it all into the truck. After that, we wait and search and hope that someone will buy our house and we will buy another so that we can get our stuff back.
Shortly after the mover finished the kitchen, I found a water glass I had stashed somewhere. I’m notorious for hiding glasses around the house, for filling them, drinking half, and forgetting where I put them. It worked out today, though. It was the only beverage container I had. After drinking so much water almost constantly in Arizona, my body has been thoroughly confused about why I’m not drinking as much water here. Also about the lack of sleep and the odd eating hours. I imagine that by the time I make it to my parents’ house later in the week I will be exhausted and probably sleep a lot of the time. Or I could just wait until I get back. We all know I don’t have anything pressing going on.
I’m closing up the house, turning off the lights, shutting the windows, closing the blinds, pulling the shades. I remembered to turn the air conditioning back to 85, but I doubt it will get that warm before 9 am when I return.
It’s so odd to have someone come in and pack up your life, put it on a truck, and drive it away to a new place. I know I’ve done this a million times, but it’s always so strange.