Monday, February 01, 2010

February. How did that happen?

January is a misty water colored memory. We are still moving Steve from his place into our house. Of course, you’re probably wondering why it’s taken us so ridiculously long to complete this move. Not since Moses led the Israelites to their new crib in Canaan has a relocation taken so long.

We had the best of intentions. We were trying to make this a stress-free move by moving a couple of items every day.  That would space the move out over a month. We’ve gotten derailed nearly every weekend…vacations, play-off tickets. Plus Steve is mentoring for Team in Training which means he’s gone every Saturday. Oh, and to celebrate the anniversary of spraining my ankle I resprained ankle. Good times.

We also didn’t fully account for the stress of a slow move. I’ve had exactly one move in my life that did not involve professional movers. That move was coordinated by my mom who is so effortlessly efficient that my stuff practically jumped into the moving boxes out of blind allegiance to my mother.

Here’s the deal with professional movers. One day they show up and they make the pain stop. Oh, you didn’t get to sort these books and donate them? Tough. They’re in a box. Didn’t get to drop these dresses off at the battered women’s shelter? They’re going with you to your new home. Professional movers come in like a swarm of locusts packing everything including half full trash cans and dirty cat litter pans. Movers are on a take no prisoners packing spree.

The other thing we didn’t fully understand was that a slow move would turn me into a raging looney tune. I hate clutter. Hate it. The slow move is an endless clutter parade.  I get everything put away. Instantly, more boxes and clutter come into the house. By the love of Swiffer, when are the professional movers coming to make the pain stop?

Long time reader Lisa commented that I don’t seem to enjoying my long runs. She’s right. I’m not enjoying the long runs, because my brain is constantly saying…you should be packing, moving, working, cleaning. Running was my time away from the world. Now my world is crowding out running.

We are almost done with this move. All the big stuff is moved, now it’s just conquering the final clutter and we’re home sweet home.


  1. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  2. You are oh, so right about the movers and what they will pack...I've found things in boxes that were put in there almost 2+ years ago that makes me wonder why I didn't notice a smell sooner.

    Did find the margarita salt, though...that was a happy day.