Hi friends, thank you for opening this. I promise I didn’t come here to whine, but I’m at that point where I’m struggling to keep smiling. And awake. Brain fog is setting in. This is why I haven’t written.
All I can say is, this move had better not kill me. I’ve worked too hard for this. I’ll be royally pissed if it killed me before I even got a chance to decorate.
I’m dreaming of quiet days after every U-Haul box is unpacked and all my little knick-knacks are in place, along with the memories I brought along.
To bring some of you up to date, the last thing I published was the piece below, about my upcoming move. Believe me, there have been more heart-stopping chapters after that one. But I’m not one to dwell…
For those of you who don’t know, after 30 years in the same house, I’m moving. I’m not handling it well. I’m handling it pretty poorly, in fact. You would think I was the only one who ever made a move like this. As if nobody has EVER had to go through what I’m going through.
And I know you all have stories…
I’m not sleeping. Three solid hours a night, tops, and that’s only when the low-dose Melatonin kicks in. (I can’t stand feeling groggy in the AM and the slightest narcotic does that to me.) I’m eating, but only the stuff that’s really, really bad for me. The good stuff would mean I’d have to cook or at least make an effort to think about nutrition, and I’m not doing that.
My heart pounds and I’m sure my blood pressure is raging. (It’s not. 110 over 64 at my annual checkup the other day. Nothing to worry about, I’m told, except that my knees have turned to gravel (knew that already) and I have no more good veins from which to draw blood. This may be the last time they’ll ever get it from me without just poking me all over the place and any old where, hoping for the best.)
And, of course, I’m still OLD. Which is okay with me as long as I’m in pretty good shape otherwise.
So stop the damn whining!
Okay. Glad I got that off my chest. Sorry you were the ones to have to hang in there while I did. (You’re still here, right?) I just wanted to tell you that I may be hanging out at Notes now and then but I’m taking a little break from blogging until after April 29. I should have my office set up by then and my hard working family should be gone. (Won’t they be thrilled!)
Until then, thanks as always for your friendship and your support. And if you decide you’ve had enough of me, if you drop out I won’t even know! I’ll be blissfully unaware. So don’t worry about hurting my feelings.
I mean, you will hurt my feelings if I ever find out, but don’t worry about it.
And the rest of you? You’re my strength, my happiness, my reason for being here. You’re the reason I can’t wait until this is all over and I can get back. Shouldn’t be long now! ❤️❤️❤️
I am not moving, but after 32 years in current house, we are getting the last important piece to aging in place done, complete remodel of all 3 bathrooms, and to get ready I am decluttering, deciding what goes to charity shops, what goes up to attic, what stays in place, and finding all the dust behind things that I kept nicely dusted on their tops, yada yada, and every night muscles I thought i was keeping working by walking are telling me that squatting, sitting on the floor, getting up from the floor, carrying large heavy bags of books, etc are entirely different from walking muscles...so pain. So yes, I am feeling your pain. but at least no unpacking at the end. Big hugs.
You’ve got this Ramona! It’s tough saying goodbye to your forever home…but you will be okay, you will thrive in the new place with decorating, making new friends, exploring the town. I had to sell and move when I became a widow… the biggest leap I ever took. But I’m happy and doing just fine now….Nine years later. A little tip… I wrote a letter to the new owners and one for the house, tucked in back of a kitchen drawer just before the closing. It gave me a sense of peace. I’ll be thinking of you, dear friend. Let your heart hurt and your eyes cry… then be on your way to new beginnings. Hugs 😊🩷🤗🤗🤗