I can’t quite decide if we are in the middle of the slowest mover ever or if it just feels that way because I have no real idea of when the actual move will happen. My husband moved to Atlanta in the end of February but we made the very conscious decision to delay selling our house until the spring/summer. I was swamped in the early spring and couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around doing all the things you need to do before putting a house on the market. Time seemed to move doubly fast once I did start getting the house ready though as I frantically tried to balance work, house prep, and life.
Now that the projects are done and the house is on the market though, I’m just waiting and time has slowed to a crawl again. We’re beginning to whittle down a list of the houses we might be interested in buying in Atlanta but with no contract on our home in Texas yet, we’re stuck in limbo. I thought that this stage of the process would be just as hectic and busy as the one preceding it, the getting ready phase. Aside from keeping our house especially clean though, it isn’t. So I wanted to blog about a list of the things that are currently surprising me.
Keeping the house super clean is easy when you’re the only one in it. Even our cats have been relocated and, while getting the house clean wasn’t easy, keeping it clean is pretty easy when there’s only one of me. It’s also improved my efficiency. I now prep meals only once a week for the whole week (breakfast, lunch, and dinner) because cleaning the kitchen every day is a nightmare but cleaning it once a week is pretty reasonable. My week nights suddenly have a lot more free time in them since preparing dinner involves reheating whatever I made on Sunday (lasagna this week!!).
Having people come through your house is the weirdest thing ever. I know it’s a necessary part of selling a home but it’s uncomfortable and unsettling and I don’t have to like it. I have a backpack packed more or less 24/7 with everything that I won’t leave in the house while it’s being shown, which is probably an interesting snapshot of what I value most highly. My camera. My laptop. My research hard drives. My favorite jewelry (the rest is packed away and locked up). My planner. Of course, there are plenty of things in the house that I value deeply but don’t remover because I doubt the people coming through would value them the same way- stuffed animals, family photo albums, books. Maybe having people come through the house would be alright if it (apparently) didn’t involve rocket science.
I went into this process understanding that I might come home to lights or fans turned on, despite our requests that realtors turn them all off. Then one afternoon I came home after a showing to discover the house hadn’t been fully locked up. The first time I wrote off as an uncomfortable fluke. The second time I started to get concerned. Then a door was left open. Not unlocked. Open. I was (unsurprisingly) traveling out of state at the time so I took a deep breath and called our realtor who apologized profusely and promised to take care of it. Hours later, the showing realtor had come and gone again but the door still wasn’t closed. Very close to losing anything that may have once resembled cool or composure I called our next door neighbor, who dutifully traipsed over in the middle of the night to close up the house for us. Everything turned out okay and I vented my frustration to my Mom via text message. Is this rocket science?
She assures me it isn’t and I try to console myself with the idea that we’ll have less to move if everything gets stolen first. It’s also a powerful reminder to me to be the kind of person I wish we had coming through our home as we tour homes in Atlanta.
Sunday, June 11, 2017
Thursday, June 1, 2017
Long Distance Hug
I've been having trouble settling on something to blog about recently. There's so much going on at the moment and yet, somehow, I feel like I'm in a holding pattern. I haven't left Texas and I haven't arrived in Georgia and I'm not quite fully in either state. So, instead of talking more about that whole situation, I'll touch on a favorite topic.
I was recently asked how I have so many friends. The honest answer is that I have NO idea.
I'm sure I've blogged about it before but I'm lucky to know so many amazing people. That's true all the time but it always rings particularly true when I'm stressed or going through a difficult time. One of the easiest ways for me to recognize stress in myself is that I stop singing along to the radio. For me, that indicates the kind of stress that I need to care about, the kind that doesn't disappear after a good night's sleep and solid meal.
When the radio doesn't cut it anymore, I dig out my CD's. I could just play the same music off my phone but, somehow, it's just not the same. I reach for the CD's that friends have made me over the years. They've been made with intent and with feeling and with care. A fair few of them have even been made with love. Many of them have been my companions on nearly a decade of road trips. The music is great but the memories that come with it are better.
The songs I listen to remind me of all the times that were better than the moment I'm currently in. The time I got into a car with a near stranger and got out a few hours later with a close friend. (It wasn't creepy, I promise.) The time I road tripped across the country with my boyfriend (now husband) and one of our best friends. So many moves across state lines. Weddings. Birthdays. Parties. The list goes on forever but there's one memory that is especially precious to me. (Okay, there are at least a thousand precious moments but there's one I want to talk about right now.)
In my junior year at college, I came down with some awful stomach bug. I struggled through a midterm and spent the rest of the day in bed. By late evening, I had to be admitted to the ER. I remember the pain and the fear of the whole mess. Three people, my then-boyfriend, then-best friend, and another friend, came to the hospital with me. After being admitted and put on an IV, everything got pretty fuzzy. I was released, nearly 6 hours later, at 2 am and I remember standing near the hospital doors, near tears, wondering how I was supposed to get back to my dorm, miles away. I had no car, no phone, and still felt horrible. A nurse came by and said she would get my friend from the cafeteria and the relief I felt was unbelievable. Of course my best friend or boyfriend had stayed! I thought and felt incredibly stupid for feeling so alone. Neither had though. Instead, they had both gone back to their dorms, tired. The third friend who came with us to the ER though had stayed awake all night, not wanting me to be released alone.
Some acts of friendship leave an indelible imprint on us. They aren't all as grand as the one I've recounted here but they are all deeply important. I don't know how I have found so many friends but I am so thankful for every single one of them. When I am feeling low, their loving actions are a Long Distance Hug.
Coincidentally, that's also the name of one of my favorite mix CD's.
I was recently asked how I have so many friends. The honest answer is that I have NO idea.
I'm sure I've blogged about it before but I'm lucky to know so many amazing people. That's true all the time but it always rings particularly true when I'm stressed or going through a difficult time. One of the easiest ways for me to recognize stress in myself is that I stop singing along to the radio. For me, that indicates the kind of stress that I need to care about, the kind that doesn't disappear after a good night's sleep and solid meal.
When the radio doesn't cut it anymore, I dig out my CD's. I could just play the same music off my phone but, somehow, it's just not the same. I reach for the CD's that friends have made me over the years. They've been made with intent and with feeling and with care. A fair few of them have even been made with love. Many of them have been my companions on nearly a decade of road trips. The music is great but the memories that come with it are better.
The songs I listen to remind me of all the times that were better than the moment I'm currently in. The time I got into a car with a near stranger and got out a few hours later with a close friend. (It wasn't creepy, I promise.) The time I road tripped across the country with my boyfriend (now husband) and one of our best friends. So many moves across state lines. Weddings. Birthdays. Parties. The list goes on forever but there's one memory that is especially precious to me. (Okay, there are at least a thousand precious moments but there's one I want to talk about right now.)
In my junior year at college, I came down with some awful stomach bug. I struggled through a midterm and spent the rest of the day in bed. By late evening, I had to be admitted to the ER. I remember the pain and the fear of the whole mess. Three people, my then-boyfriend, then-best friend, and another friend, came to the hospital with me. After being admitted and put on an IV, everything got pretty fuzzy. I was released, nearly 6 hours later, at 2 am and I remember standing near the hospital doors, near tears, wondering how I was supposed to get back to my dorm, miles away. I had no car, no phone, and still felt horrible. A nurse came by and said she would get my friend from the cafeteria and the relief I felt was unbelievable. Of course my best friend or boyfriend had stayed! I thought and felt incredibly stupid for feeling so alone. Neither had though. Instead, they had both gone back to their dorms, tired. The third friend who came with us to the ER though had stayed awake all night, not wanting me to be released alone.
Some acts of friendship leave an indelible imprint on us. They aren't all as grand as the one I've recounted here but they are all deeply important. I don't know how I have found so many friends but I am so thankful for every single one of them. When I am feeling low, their loving actions are a Long Distance Hug.
Coincidentally, that's also the name of one of my favorite mix CD's.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)