I am alone. The place is empty and sparklingly clean – almost sterile. But even though it’s bare it still feels like home to me and I find myself getting more and more and more teary until I can no longer hold back the floodgates. It’s like trying to hold back a river with a toothpick, so I give up. I feel sad all over and I choose to just straight up feel it. I touch significant spots in the house with palms open and fingers spread wide. The bar in my closet where I hung my clothes. The wall where I hung the collage that I crafted with my own hands. The door knob on my bedroom door. I lay down on the hardwood floor in the empty space where my bed used to be and I look up at the ceiling fan like I’ve done countless times before in the last 12 months.
And I say thank you. And goodbye.
Is that weird?
Each time I move I have to take a minute to say thank you and goodbye to the spaces that have held me for however many months. It’s my special version of closure. I’ve moved more times that I can count, but each move feels like the start of a new cycle of grief.
I dropped off the equipment for my internet today and… did you know… that if you aren’t paying attention you might have signed an internet contract stating that you PREPAY each month’s internet and they won’t prorate the payment if you terminate service after the pay date???NEWSFLASH. So they made me pay through August 22nd even though I won’t be living here after July 31st…. The car is packed and the house is immaculate. And I am exhausted. But since I have no place to go but drive I made plans to grab fast food and drive a couple of hours to my grandparents so that I can spend some time with them before I move.
I know that all people have various levels of financial health, but if the time comes for a relocation I prefer to give myself weeks to months of time off for all the travel I didn’t have time for while working. This might not work for everyone, but it works for me and I love it. Last year when I moved from one state to another I took two months off and went to visit my parents + grandparents and then took off for Europe for several weeks and then went to Hawaii for a while after that. The single, debt-free life can be quite a blessing when it comes to freeeeeeedom.
So with that mentality in mind I am in no rush to settle into my new home state so I have planned a road trip that allows me to visit friends and family along the way. One aspect of this trip I forgot to consider is that my car is freakishly full. Like weighted down. Packed to the max. I can barely believe that I can fit. It THAT kind of full. As I brought out more and more stuff to my car and wedged it in like a Tetris game I was quietly cursing myself for owning so much and anxiously watching as my car sunk lower and lower.
Is it bad for cars to drive all over hither and thither when they are THAT heavy AND have a 16 gallons worth of gas in them? These are the weird things that make me anxious.