INSERT GUTTURAL SOUNDS HERE

I don’t think I even have any pictures for you, guys. I could show you the empty house or the new car or ALL. THE. BOXES.  But I haven’t even had time for a good old fashioned outfit photo in quite a while. Actually there aren’t even that many boxes since we got rid of so much, so I guess that’s a small win. We’re to that point in the process where the house doesn’t feel like home anymore, and yet there seems to be so much left to put into containers or throw away or donate or try to squeeze a few bucks out of. We’ve sold all but one lamp, which I thought would be no big dill, but instead has put me in quite a pickle. I thought “How often do I even need a dumb lamp anyway?” but it turns out the answer is: a lot. Like, when it’s nighttime and the light switch is far away and it’s past 1992 so you don’t have The Clapper installed? Perfect time for a lamp! After tomorrow it’ll be all overhead lighting and tv-glow, like I’m some kind of savage.

No one ended up wanting to buy our gargantuan TV (I should be ashamed but we got it for the low-low price of $400 and I must admit it is one of the better things I’ve done with that amount of money)(…look I’ll just say it: I love TV, ok?), or the stand upon which it…stands, OR our amazing mid-century buffet, so those items may end up making the voyage across the country after all. People have had a lot of questions and concerns about getting rid of nearly everything we own, and I gotta tell ya: that was a SUPER easy decision and maybe even one of the easiest ones (second to: GTFO the South ASAP)! While I lov(ed) everything we own(ed), I also really loved the act of shopping for everything we own(ed), and look forward to doing that again. When the house finally felt finished, I was a little sad to have no longer have a legit reason to stop at Homegoods or Kudzu.  Also I decorated this house specifically with selling it in mind.  I didn’t want to have to go through staging, so I had it basically stage-ready at all times.  And that was exhausting, honestly.  I know my friends all wondered why we never actually sat on the nice couch (when I bought it 4 years ago it was half that price, so Thrive must be feeling pretty proud of itself these days), and it was because I was too scared that someone would ruin it and I’d never be able to replace it and would be stuck with a fancy, ruined couch.  I seriously considered buying an old lady plastic couch cover but my clean-freak half and my cheapskate half compromised on 2 cans of Scotch-Gard instead.  Since the goal is to stay in our next house longer than 4 years, maybe I’ll buy a couch I let people sit near.  And eventually on, after I work up to it.

So anyway I guess we leave on Thursday or Friday?  I keep saying it out loud and in my head, but it isn’t really sinking in.  Does that happen to everyone, or is my brain broken? I know for a fact that this is happening because I did all this work and the calendar says it’s time to close on the house and the furniture is gone and the reservations are made, but it just doesn’t seem plausible.  I thought I would feel more wistful as time marched onwards, but I’ve actually been feeling more bitter and fed-up.  I can only assume this is like a protective exoskeleton I’m constructing so that my mushy feelings stay inside and I can forge ahead.  If I was sad about leaving then it would be too hard to go, so it has to be this way.   I know there will be food and places and people that I miss, but I’m so ready to see my best-coast people and places that it’s barely registering that this IS IT.  Also I’m going to make all of our friends sign a pact that says they plan on moving to the west coast within the next 5 years, whether they like it or not, so there’s really no need to fret about “missing” people or “leaving” them.  Suckers. (Hey friends if you’re reading this I’ll be bringing around a petition later that is definitely seriously about Free Ice Cream For Everyone Forever so you should totally sign it without reading it super closely and it is definitely NOT a contract obligating you to move to Washington, at ALL.)

Okay well this Dance Moms isn’t going to watch itself and I have some leftover tiramisu that is definitely not going to be good in 3,000 miles so I better go handle that.  If I don’t talk to you before the end of the week, I’ll see you on the other side!

 

 

 

 

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