Packing Up

I don't really feel like writing now, but I think it's important that I do. We are home. We got back from Alaska last night.

Today we started at 8:30. The light here is more normal, so it was a bit of an adjustment for it to be daylight at nine. But we spend the whole day packing. There is so much stuff.  I thought we had most of it packed, but there is so much more! If you can imagine it, we spent 10 solid hours putting things in boxes. And there is still more to go. This morning I observed the stack of boxes that Eduardo brought home and I was sure that we had too many. Now I am not so sure.

I don't feel sentimental anymore about our apartment. I'm over it. I've exhausted those thoughts, and right now we have way too much to do anyway, so it's just as well. I have passed the point of sentimentality. See, that's why I freak out early before anything happens, so I am ready with my game face on when it comes to crunch time!

But in this very moment our former home is stacked with boxes, and it's lost it's familiarity. I kind of feel like I am in a hotel...a really messy hotel because all of my shit packed but everywhere and waiting for the moving truck.

So this is officially the night before EVERYTHING will be packed and loaded. This is the last night I'll be in my bed, in the place I've called home for the past 4 years. I'm just on the cuff. Right now is the end of one adventure. And tomorrow heralds another. And I won't be able to do this tomorrow. Literally. Because my bed will no longer be here. And I don't know how long from now I will next sleep in it either! 

I sometimes feel like there should be some kind of ceremony for these kind of "last" moments, but I'm not sure why. Why should the last time be different from the 5th or 87th time you did something? None the less I often do feel like they should be memorialized or something. Fireworks or a 3 gun salute or something, maybe a photo or a poem. I guess I'll just have to live with Eduardo's Karen Carpenter Pandora station and the piles of boxes.

Right now all I want to do is get everything on the truck, and get to Michigan in one piece. That is my goal. It's time to get out of here.

Everything is harder when you are still in it. It's much easier when it becomes the past. It's hard sometimes to get to that point, but once it's over and gone, well...I find it's much easier to to not look back once you've made the decision not to. Life isn't only about what you feel. Sometimes it just boils down to what you choose, and your willingness to embrace your choices and see them through.

The moving truck!

One big pile of stuff.

Make sure to label everything...