Lately I feel like I've been experiencing a sort of..."forest/trees" phenomenon...when it comes to Operation NC Relocation. What I mean is: sometimes I feel like the days are just creeping along, with nothing much happening. Other times--oh, today, for instance--I glance at the calendar and go "Holy Time Warp, Batman, it can NOT be June already!" But then I pause for a moment to ponder the Big Picture...which involves the fact that this little scheme of mine was hatched in April 2013...when I decided that Team WestEnders should pick up and move to California. Since then, Plan A was researched, given a vacation-test-run...and ultimately scrapped. Next, Plan B was created, investigated, implemented on a trial basis...accepted, and finalized. And all of the above transpired in the space of approximately 14 months. Whew!
So, that just about covers the "woods" part, now for the...shrubbery...ahem...The settlement meeting for our southern residence will take place a week from Monday, which means that in my hyper-control-freak fashion, I've been packing for weeks. In fact, since there wasn't that much random "stuff" to load into boxes in the first place, it's gotten to the point where...I can't put away anything else yet, because...we're still using it. I think I've even started to worry the children. I asked each of them to go through their room and clear out any unnecessary or unwanted items. When he was finished, Derek led me on a tour of his closet--which now contained somewhere in the neighborhood of...four objects--and earnestly explained to me why these things must remain exactly where they were for the time being, and not disappear into the black hole of temporary storage (aka "the basement"). I swear he's petrified that I'm going to sneak in and make off with his...underwear...or something. (Which I totally wouldn't do...unless I left him a couple of pairs...)
In the course of all this possession...wrangling...I realized I may have crossed the line into...crazy anal behavior. I mean, I was on a roll, checking off delightful tasks such as: delivering a carload of stuff to the consignment shop; donating a bunch of other things to the thrift store; calling the water, gas, electric and cable/Internet providers to arrange service; and (my absolute favorite) disassembling the hundreds of cd cases accumulated over the years by my darling spouse, and driving them (in TWO trips, mind you) to the recycling center to be disposed of in a responsible manner. (Yeah, it was definitely as much fun as it sounds...) I even corralled all of our pictures and photo albums and stacked them neatly in a corner, ready to drive down in my car when I go to sign all of the papers. (Rather than the alternative--smothering each one in bubble wrap and trusting they won't get damaged in a big old moving truck. That's not nuts, that's smart, right? Right? But my family complains--and I will concede--that it does kind of make our home look a little sad and bare...like we've already vacated the place...but we're super-organized, so that's the really important thing, yeah? Okay, just allow me my delusions...)
Then one morning I wanted to cook some eggs for my breakfast....and I couldn't for the life of me locate the spatula. (I know, I know, it's ridiculous that we only have one of those...note to self: buy more spatulas in Chapel Hill...) I improvised by turning my eggs--meant to be fried, but ending up more scrambled than anything else--with a handy...spoon. Since I seemed to recall Husband using that particular utensil last, I asked him later that evening if he knew where it was. He just stared at me, bewildered. "Um...no?" he finally managed, then added, "Where would I have put it?" That was a valid question...for which I had no answer. However, a few days later (when my brain was apparently functioning a little better) it occurred to me to just go check the one carton of kitchenware I'd already stowed downstairs. Here's where being overly-efficient actually becomes useful: I was able to go straight to the correct box...and reach immediately into the corner...where I triumphantly retrieved the rogue spatula.
So...yeah...I clearly need to take it down a notch on the whole "pre-emptively packing up the house around us"...thing. It's either that, or everyone is going to be forced to hide their socks and toothbrushes from me...(Although the good news is, I'll most likely remember where I stashed 'em...no, don't fret, family, I'm only joking!)