Home in seven weeks

I keep rearranging furniture so I can keep selling furniture.  My desk is now out in the living room, but not near an electrical outlet.  This is actually a good thing, because when the laptop runs out of juice, I shut it down, plug it in, and go do something else.

Today's "something elses" included packing a suitcase of clothing that I intend to wear while on the road.  I also made room in the dresser that we've sold but the buyer (our next-door neighbor) hasn't yet taken out, so that the clothes I intend to wear up until the road trip are in ~half of it, and Stephen's clothes are in the other half.  I also took a bunch of clothes that will go into the storage container for shipping and put 'em in suck bags, about half of which are much smaller and heavier clothing BRICKS now.

Before Stephen left for work today, we fussed at each other.  There's so much to do still, and so much that we each are doing, and it's hard not to feel taken for granted.  We are each aware of the other's contributions, but we forget to say "thank you" or even verbally notice those contributions.  We're both going to work on that.

The physical stress of moving is hard - there's so much we'll have to pack and load and haul and repack and reload, and then the cleaning of the empty space really needs to happen on a day that doesn't also involve any of the aforementioned packing and loading and hauling.  I think the mental stress of moving is worse, though.  At least this time.  I've always procrastinated a bit, knowing that everything would get where it needed to get in the timing that it needed to get there.  But I've also always moved everything.  I have never before downsized my life.  We have so much stuff still, and we know that most of it isn't going.  We know that once we no longer have to see any of the stuff that isn't going, we'll feel better.  But right now, it's all still in our faces, waiting to be packed and loaded and hauled and repacked and reloaded.

I am immensely grateful for my team of cheerleaders around the country and around the globe.  I hear you, wishing only the best for me.  I feel your "great job!" vibes.  I appreciate that you wish you could help me in some way - you are helping me, just by wanting me home.  I am also grateful that we're pretty sure that this coming Sunday's flea market trip will be the last one.  Whatever we don't unload there gets put back into the stepmom's attic, or given to a local charity, or gets packed into the container for delivery to Los Angeles.

I'll be closing my ebay store before the end of the month.  I don't want to have to stress over finding the right price for things or get things shipped out in the month of June.  It's been a damn fine run, but I'll be done.