So, I didn’t mean to leave this without a post but this morning we left before I could come up with something to write.
I’m trying very hard to be good to myself, but I keep running out of spoons. I don’t think I’m still sick, though extensive surgery and a year of moving and rebuilding a Victorian probably didn’t help my overall condition. I think it’s more that I’m not twenty anymore, and when I was twenty I was pretty awesome, in the sense that I was the energizer bunny.
Our fourth move as a married couple, from Columbia SC to Colorado, we packed an entire 1800 sq foot, three bedroom household in three days without sleeping. Yeah, mistakes were made. For instance I somehow moved without my own, handmade maternity wardrobe (done on patterns from Dan’s grandmother, so it was all twenties look), we left a piece of the high chair and I almost threw away a $6k check, but by gum when the movers arrived the house was ready to load in the truck and — because it was my 30th birthday — we went out to dinner and were semi-coherent.
I don’t expect to be able to do that anymore, but when I start flagging after two hours, I get very upset with myself and with my stupid body.
So what do you do when you’ve got nothing: no strength, no drive, no ability to go on? You go on anyway. This is something my writing career has taught me. You take little breaks — I look at blog comments, or just sit down with my eyes closed for five minues, and then I go on. Because I have to. And an amazing amount gets accomplished.
We’ve spent the last three days mostly at the other house, collecting “stragglers” — i.e. the little things that weren’t boxed or were left behind, notwithstanding which I’ve completely unpacked our bedroom and bathroom, and done a million loads of laundry. I’m four boxes away from unpacking the kitchen which is good because eating out as a default is NOT for me.
My goal is to have everything essential (kitchen, office, bedroom) done by Monday so I can settle in and work. We’re not unpacking the non-essentials, like fancy dishes or such, as we’re very much hoping this is a 3 month only stay. We’re grateful for the house, but I’m dying to be in a permanent place and truly able to settle in.
I’ve already told Dan, though, that IF it all goes according to plan and we move in June, I am going to go to a hotel for the duration. (We have points, anyway.) The packers can come in and pack us and move us, and I’ll be there to direct unpacking at that end. This slow mo death march is not for me anymore, and I have books to write and publish.
All of which are very loud right now, of course.
In other news, I really think derpfish is dying :(. I’ve tried everything that worked before, but he’s just not springing back. Ah well. I neglected him too much, but when you’re moving and trying to write… I’ll stick to cats from now on. They tell me when I’m neglecting them. (On one notable occasion by peeing on my lap.)
And relating to the whole war on competence theme, the house we’re renting was builg in the fifties, and it is far smaller than where we were living, but infinitely better designed with so many conveniences and little tricks to make life easier that it makes me a little angry. Why angry? We’ve been seeing all these brand spanking new houses, and none of them is nearly as convenient, neat or well designed. (If it weren’t in the Springs, I might really be tempted to buy.)
It’s like the knowledge of the ancients. Once upon a time we believed in designing our houses to make things easy and convenient. Once upon a time we believed in improving things both great and small. We were going to the future, and it was going to be great.
Now these things are like knowledge of the ancients, that we must bring back. “Humanity is not doomed” “You don’t need to punish yourself” “the future is better than the past.”
Hark, I’ve unearthed the knowledge of a lost civilization: our own. And I will share it with a grey-goo present, even when I have nothing to pull from and I’ve run all out of spoons.
It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you keep going long after you want to give up.
And sometimes that’s what you have to do.