We’re moving. Finally.
We’re relocating to the south Texas coast: H to a new job with a bigger company, and I resigned my job at the library to prepare.
I’ve been tapping down exactly how much I wanted this. It wasn’t helpful to want a move when there were no prospects in sight. Instead, I enjoyed my new job and new friends; I gave up worrying when we’d get away.
But now we’re definitely moving. To a new neighborhood, road, grocery store. A fresh state to wash sour memories out of our mouths and set the positive ones. A big body of water and coastal breezes to refresh us.
Everything is right around the corner: the surveyor came Friday and made a list of our belongings for the moving company. I re-homed the fish and cleaned extra papers out of the office. Laundry is rolling, vacuum is cooling down, suitcases await, packages were sent and received, and new lists are made every day. I’ve attached the top, sides, and zipper to the pouf. The cat and dog eye me nervously while I bustle around at home instead of going to work.
Now, because the company is paying for our move, we’re just waiting for the paperwork to push through this week. Then H will fly up, we’ll pack the car while they pack the house, and take a road trip south to learn a new city’s streets, close on the house, find a new doctor, help the pets adjust, host a horde of visitors from Oregon, pick new favorite eateries, and make new friends.