Empty

It’s so strange. The bathroom echoes like mad when it’s empty. I was cleaning it while talking to my Mom on the phone and had to stop cleaning because the echo was driving me insane. It’s not that big a room. It shouldn’t echo.

I made a joke to the dogs earlier today that they shouldn’t be upset by everything leaving because we would have so much more room for activities. I heard laughing behind me and one of the movers commented that I had just quoted his favorite movie. He and B traded quotes for a few minutes. The funniest part, to me, is that I’ve never seen that movie but B quotes it all the time, hence I used it when it seemed appropriate.

There is a strange sense of deja vu with these moves. We’ve done it so many times now. The worst part is probably that once everything is gone, it still isn’t over. The movers left today, the house was deliciously empty and horrifyingly messy at the same time. We went to lunch, then B when back to work. I wanted to just rest, but alas cleaning called my name for some 4-5 hours. I’m not really sure. Then he came home and we had to sort what was leaving with me on Friday and what he was keeping for the following week.

It’s all sorted now. My car is almost completely packed. Just needs my fiddle, “go” bag, laptop bag, make up basket, and me. We’ve got a pretty good routine down for packing. B collects things into sections and I actually pack them. Same goes with the car. Since I’m not supposed to be lifting more than 5-10 pounds right now, he hauled everything to the car and I told him precisely where I wanted it. And how. Logistically fitting things into tight spaces in the best configuration is something I’ve always been good at. Regardless, having that out of the way is the best.

And now, here we sit. On the floor of our apartment with a makeshift lounge couch of our pillows and sleeping bag bedding. We lived this way for almost two months when we first moved here. I’m so glad I only have 36 hours of it to do. I think a sign that I’m getting older is that my back doesn’t take well to being on the floor for extended periods anymore.

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About texancountess

I find myself in the calming roar of the sea, floating gently on the foam of the breaking waves. Blue. Green. Gray. The colors of the sea mark the boundaries of my soul. The tumbled glass finds its polish under the relentless pounding of the waves upon the shore. Thus am I. Rough transitioning to polish, refinement ever a process, finding my niche in the storms of life.
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