Moving from Point B Back to Point A

Moving one’s household sucks.  I don’t know how military families sustain any kind of normalcy, but I’ve gained such respect for their abilities to persevere through multiple moves.  As for me?  I’m losing my damn mind!!

Every time I say, “I don’t have that much stuff.”  Someone always makes the comment, “When people say they don’t have that much stuff, they really have “that much stuff.”  Honestly, packing up over the weekend by myself, if I had more boxes, I would have been done.  Every time I move, I get rid of more things that I realize I can live without.  Boxes get fewer and furniture gets lighter.  At least I know when my children find me in my apartment years (and YEARS) from now, I will not be surrounded by dead cats, old newspapers and a ton of garbage.

My big move in December of 2015 was supposed to change the course of my life!  I was going to start this fantastic new job, live in this lovely little cottage home and be happily ever after on my own.  Well, the move did change the course of my life, but not in the way I intended.  The fantastic new job was a bust, I could barely afford the cottage and I got really sick.  So, back to the drawing board.  Again.

I said before it was never in my plans to lead the life of a gypsy, but here I am:

“To the gypsy… that I was
And it all comes down to you
Well, you know that it does
Well, lightning strikes, maybe once, maybe twice
Ah, and it lights up the night
And you see your gypsy
You see your gypsy
To the gypsy that remains faces freedom with a little fear
I have no fear, I have only love…” ~ Fleetwood Mac

Lightning does strike twice…in my case, more like three or four times.  I never see it coming, but the best thing I can do is wait the storm out.  When it’s over, assess the damage and rebuild again.  If I don’t, what happens to me?  I know, right?

As I drive back and forth between point B and point A, I look at all the homes along the way.  Mostly, I admire the lovely yards or flowers and think about how much time and effort the owners put into making their homes so beautiful.  Other times, I wish I could have that – a home, a yard, flowers, a garden – but I don’t think I was ever meant to be that kind of person.  If I was, I’m pretty sure I’d have all that by now.  Instead, I’m a gypsy.

I’m not a gypsy in the true sense of “gypsy,” but in the sense that I seem to move a lot.  I don’t intend for the moving to happen, but I’ve learned that a person can only handle so much negativity before she has to move on.  At least now I don’t wait for years to do it.

My mother affectionately refers to me as “the bag lady” because right now all of my things are in some kind of bag.  I’m sleeping on her couch and getting my clothes out of bags.  I know, it doesn’t sound like I’m landing very squarely on my feet, but give it time.  I will.  I always do.  I have faith, and I have hope, but I still think moving really sucks.

….oh, and if anyone has some empty boxes, a pick up and a trailer – HELP!

 

 

 

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