We are two weeks from closing on our new house (gasp gasp sputter fall over!) and as the date draws ever nearer I find myself in this weird mix of emotions. I am beyond excited, but trying not to be too excited since you never know what may happen in two weeks. I am ready to start packing but am afraid that if I do and test the universe, the universe will come around and bite me in the behind, so I only pack strange assortments of things, like the drawer of puzzles. So that way if the universe comes around looking to see what I am doing I can just say "Me? Packing? Noooo, I am just organizing and moving the things the kids don't use.....promise!" And the universe will be fooled by that. I am excited to have a new space to decorate and create in, but don't want to start any of that until we know what is happening. Again, with the universe. I hate her sometimes. Mostly, I am in a weird limbo, waiting but not waiting, running forward in my mind and staying still in my body. It is annoying and I am pretty well ready to be done with this.
A thought occurred to me yesterday afternoon as I was getting ready to take some of the kids' old things to a consignment sale. We have lived in our current house for five years now, plenty of time for the neighbors to become accustomed to me and weirdness. But when we move, I will have a whole new set of neighbors to break in. That is a scary thought. It has been alot of work these last five years, training my neighbors to understand that yes, I am crazy, but in a mostly amusing way, certainly nothing harmful or to be worried about. I mean sure, I don't understand the concept of de-icer on a car window and prefer to smack futilely at ice on my windshield for twenty minutes (without gloves on). I regularly walk around outside in my pajamas at all hours of the day, including but not limited to breakfast time, lunch time, dinner time and bedtime. I just like my jammies. I admit sometimes I run from my bedroom to the other bathroom in the nude because I forgot a towel again and during these jaunts I pretend that no one can see in my windows, and I appreciate that my neighbors pretend the same, thankyouverymuch. And I am not much for planning, as evidenced in the countless times I have tried to fit large objects in my car, objects like strollers, chairs, huge boxes, and as was the case yesterday, a mondo dollhouse. In the place of planning I like to stand out in my driveway cursing and stomping around, trying to figure out how to fold up the stroller or take the stupid dollhouse apart.
This is just how I operate. I am done trying to change, and I have full faith that my neighbors have come to accept me as well. But sheesh, I have all new people to begin training to avoid accidentally glancing in my windows, pretend my jammies are real clothes, and look the other way when I am wrestling (and losing) with a giant dollhouse.
The task is daunting I tell you.