Recently I've been spending quite a bit of time with an old friend...and it's making Husband a little...uncomfortable. It's not like this buddy and I are besties, or anything--in fact, we can go months without any contact at all. But then I'll get a notion that we need to catch up on things, so I'll reach out to connect. And when we do get together, it's such an enriching relationship that I can't see how I would ever give it up. Now, before you get all worried and start looking up marriage counselors for us, let me confess that I'm talking about my special pal Craig...slist. (Yeah, I crack myself up....sorry...) I mean, c'mon, what could be more satisfying than posting an ad for an item you no longer need (because, I don't know...maybe you're moving, or something...) and having an interested buyer show up at your door...wielding cash? Hel-looo, reciprocal reward, everybody wins, am I right?
So, lately I've targeted a couple of pieces of furniture that won't be making the trip to North Carolina with us. And, as sometimes happily occurs when you deal with Craig, they got snatched up almost immediately...as in, one evening Husband came home from work to find a chair and ottoman missing from our bedroom, and the cedar chest and dresser moved to different positions to fill in the spaces. Now, keep in mind that he NEVER EVER sat in that particular spot, thus has no sentimental or practical attachment to that seat whatsoever...yet when he marched upstairs to change out of his business attire, he let out an audible gasp (dramatically exaggerated, I might add) and cried plaintively down the stairs, "Deeeaaaaarrrr! I fear change!" Uhhh-huuuuh. How's that workin' out for ya, Mr. "Leaving My Office Job and Going Home-Based"? Or would you prefer that I called you Mr. "Picking Up My Life and Relocating Two States Away"? Yeah, I suggest you take a couple of deep breaths, and prepare to leap onto the exciting WestEnders bandwagon...aptly named...um...how about: "Embrace the New", huh?
And while we're on the subject of novel experiences...today, after several exasperating, frustrating, infuriating weeks of snafus, headaches, and negotiations, at long last we were given the go-ahead to complete the paperwork and finalize the sale of our current house. Although the process was nothing less than horrible, and the results were not as favorable as Husband and I had originally been led to believe they would be, It. Is. O-V-E-R. Putting that behind us...and celebrating a birthday (whose exact value shall remain undisclosed, as it represents a prime number, which I intensely dislike...don't ask me, it's a weird Math quirk that I have...just go with it...) started me pondering the enormity of just how many "firsts" we'll ALL undergo in the coming year. Let's see...Derek will start High School (shudder)...Riley will begin Middle School (yikes)...I will need to figure out my employment situation (fingers in ears: "la la la la, I'm not ready to work on that just yet")...and everyone will have to explore and learn about a new state, city, neighborhood, and home.
Um...wow...that's a lotta...stuff...to wrap my brain around. Hmm, maybe I can clear my head by arranging and packing some of our belongings. (I know, I know, "normal people don't organize things for fun"...but I'm okay with owning my...Type-A-ness...) Or...perhaps Craig is free for a little conversation and commerce...Shhh! Husband won't miss those ancient rollerblades, right? (Whistling innocently while meandering towards the storage room...)