Is. Quite. The. Process.
Especially to a house.
From an apartment.
The last week has been an utter blur and trying to recap *there* to *here* seems rather difficult.
The last night…Friday, May 31 was a hectic evening. It wasn’t how I pictured it, in terms of sitting back, glass of wine, recapping our memories of the last (almost) two years. It was filled with moving boxes, M’s parents coming over to the house to help with some things, some anxious moments (by me, of course. har, har.), and then a restless night’s sleep. Thinking, anxious, praying that the day would run smoothly.
6 am wake up on Saturday morning. I bound out of bed and am giddily excited, yet nervous. Praying the movers show up (they do. Whew). Hoping the weather isn’t too hot (it is, a scorching 94 degrees with loads of humidity).
The morning runs as smoothly as I could have imagined. Movers haul and we have everything in (or so I *thought*) by 11:15 am. I am happily unpacking boxes. My mom has come over and is documenting the move in pictures and keeping our kitties comfy holed up in one of the spare bedrooms as the movers get everything in. The alarm guy comes and installs. The cable/internet guys come and get that all situated. We are feeling *golden* and then…M decides to head over to the apartment to gather the ‘last few things’ he had left at the house (including our oh-so-precious wine club wines!) and bam, it all goes to hell in a handbasket (#dramatic).
In true “M” fashion, he has vastly underestimated how many boxes and random items are left at the house. As I’m farting around putting books away and more clothes, he finally texts me and admits the job is far too big for just him. It’s about 5 pm at this point (an hour and a half after he left to gather the ‘few’ things) and we have been going almost 12 hours, in scorching heat, sweat pouring down our faces all.day.long.
Bam. Meltdown mode.
I walk into the apartment and there is a sh*tload of stuff left. A printer, four boxes of wine, HALF of his clothes still in the closet on hangers, three bags of trash, Christmas ornaments. Let’s just say the next 30 mins were not my finest We agree to load my car up, load his, and then he’d go back after and get what he thought would be one more load, and I would hit the grocery store. Welp, another FIVE car loads later, M is finally home. rolling in around 8 pm, almost passed out from exhaustion and dehydration (I am not far behind…). But in that time, I loaded up on groceries, some of his favorite treats (as a ‘forgive me for being a jerk’ truce!) and we finally sat down, bone-weary, legs aching, and had our first meal in our new home.
And despite all of that day’s events, we were home.
And that is all that mattered at that very moment.
…to be continued…