Gypsys

We're all packed up. The movers came today and in three hours they had everything loaded onto the truck and driving away. We kept Aiden corralled in one room with the portable DVD player while they traipsed in and out with the furniture and the dishes and his toys. Only once did he seem a little uneasy, and it was when they boxed up his Hot Wheels cars. We assured him that he'd see them again this weekend.

Whenever I think about moving, I always imagine being where ever it is I'm moving to. I imagine sipping sweet tea on a Sunday morning inCharleston, or laying on the beach on a hot afternoon, not directing movers while my two year old watches his racecar bed being disassembled and loaded onto a truck. I forget about having to clean up dusty corners and cobwebs except my mop and vacuum are somewhere else. I neglect to consider finishing my classes while living in a house with no furniture or even silverware, trying to study while I hear Aiden rustling around on an inflatable mattress.



I know we're going to have fun, and I'm lucky that this whole thing is being paid for by a company, and not us, and that we didn't have to lift a finger to pack, but now that the house is empty and it's been pouring rain and the baby and dog are a little confused and disoriented, I'm nervous.

We haven't had a whole lot to be nervous about with this move, and this is really the first day of stress I've felt, but it sure is a doozy. We planned to leave on Tuesday, but now we're heading out on Saturday, which means three less days to study for my final, a barrage of phonecalls and hotel arrangements and emails that had to be done in one afternoon. It's been a long, long day and I know I'm going to remember how exciting this whole thing is and what fun we're going to have when I wake up tomorrow, but tonight it's just a little melancholy.