There is so much going on that I’m having difficulties in comprehending everything, though that could be the antihistamines talking. There’s so much that I want to say, so much that I need to do, and yet, when I try to say or do things, it’s like I’m grasping at straws that are just beyond my reach. I get an idea and it’s gone before I can verbalize it. And this swirl of chaos is my life for the next few weeks. I hope that I can find coherence somewhere in all of this because I can’t imagine being stuck unable to process anything for too much longer.
Everything is progressing shockingly smoothly with our orders and the move. We will be gone from Germany in two weeks. Looking around my house right now, that’s really hard to believe and yet it is true. We leave on Friday for Switzerland and get back on Monday. On the following Thursday and Friday they will pick up all of our belongings. On the next Tuesday B and Loki will fly out. I will follow them at the end of that week. On the third Friday I will see my new home for two years. I’m excited and I’m nervous.
Life is a dance of jumping through hoops, dropping off paperwork, and finding more to sign. It’s a chaos of cleaning, planning, and knowing that we won’t have a fridge starting next Thursday. One week until I can’t cook again for who knows how long. They never can tell you how long it will take to get you a house. And then of course it’s anyone’s guess about how long it’ll be before your belongings show up.
I’m running around armed with my copy of orders and all of my power of attorney’s. I have four. A general one, one to ship our car, one to ship our belongings, and one to change our financial allotments. Crazy, no? If we lived in the States we would just need the general one. But because we’re here we have to have the fancy specific ones.
I told B last night that I don’t want to move. And I don’t. I hate this process. I just want to be in our new home. I want to magically wake up and be there without the inbetween of getting there. At least B is the one that has to navigate a commercial airport with the pup. There are no pet slots on the base to base flights for the next month. So commercial and with B he goes. That’ll be a sight. B will have the pup and his giant kennel, a carry on, plus two suitcases. And no, I won’t be there to help. They have to be at the airport at three in the morning, I love them both, but I’m not that crazy.
Anyway, dinner won’t cook itself and we are trying to eat at home every now and then. We’re out so much between saying goodbye to friends and needing to get things done that the kitchen feels abandoned. Hopefully I’ll start to make more sense soon.