My Undying Hatred of Moving

I am exhausted.  Like just a shot of espresso and I’m still totally ready for bed.  I’m just completely beat.  Perhaps part of it is the impending move.  I hate move.  Like I mean, I REALLY hate moving.  I hate packing up everything I own into boxes and piles and trying to figure out how to wrap the plates and glassware so they won’t break.  I hate figuring out what I need NOW and what can go into storage or a box that might not get unpacked for a few days.  Or weeks.  I feel like I’m un-organizing my life from the shelves and cupboards.  I hate it.

I honestly don’t know why I hate moving so much.  Perhaps cause we never moved when I was growing up.  My parents moved once when I was eighteen months old into the house they still live in to this day.  So really, I never moved when I was growing up.  But the kicker in all that is my tendency to rearrange my room.  I don’t think I kept my room in the same configuration for more than 15 months from the time I was old enough to move my bed on my own.  I’ve had the bed nearly every which way, even floating out in the middle of the bedroom.  It became more difficult when I upgraded to a queen size bed and a slightly smaller room, but still.  I kept flipping the furniture around.  My dad would tease me that he never knew where the bed was when he came in to kiss me goodnight.

Yes.  I’m nearly 27 years old, but when I’m home my daddy still kisses me goodnight.  More often than not, I go to bed much later than he does.  But if he goes out on a fire call, he’ll often come up to give me a hug when he returns.  I’m usually awake waiting for him anyways.

So rearranging furniture and belongings is totally fine with me.  But moving?  Packing everything I own into a vehicle of some sort and relocating?  Hate it.  Hate hate hate hate.  I should be packing right now.  But instead, I’m fiddling around on my computer and debating whether or not sleeping through the night is just the better option.  Sleep is good.  Sleep sounds lovely.

My weekend did not go as planned.  I got sick.  Violently sick.  Projectile… okay, maybe thats a bit too much information, but I was really sick.  Friday night I had dinner at my aunt and uncle’s for my cousin’s birthday.  I was lame.  Gave her twenty bucks in a card.  But she’s a college student, and I don’t know of a single college student who doesn’t like cash.  Besides I had no idea what she might actually like.  After dinner and dessert and presents and conversation about the still rain-delayed Yankees, I started feeling not so great.  I had a headache, which I thought was from the dust in my apartment and perhaps the dog.  Maybe that is where the headache started from, but the instant I got home, I was racing for the bathroom.  I don’t even think I locked the door behind me.  I was shaking and crying and felt like crap.  I cleaned up and crawled into bed.  Only got sick once more, but there was nothing left in my stomach to get sick on.  So that made it even worse.  I woke up Saturday weak and exhausted.  I had some toast which stayed down, but I spent the day recovering as opposed to moving like I had planned.  Best laid plans of mice and men….

Since I spent most of Saturday in bed, I did not sleep well Saturday night.  Got maybe 4 hours total.  I was almost late for church, but just barely made it.  And by late for church, I mean late for the pre-service rehearsals and go-overs I needed to do.  I was about ten minutes later than I wanted and five minutes later than I planned.  But not technically late.  Don’t ask me to explain all that.  But the rest of the morning I felt ten minutes behind.  I couldn’t seem to catch up!  I was part of the team leading the worship that morning, AND the choir was singing, AND there was new hymns AND new liturgy choices AND the copier was dead.  At the end of the day, the service went really great.  Everyone seemed to really enjoy it and I got a lot of good feedback.  After the service, I seemed to hit the ground running.  Nothing that upset me, but just added to the list of Sunday to-dos.  The woman scheduled to play piano that evening had to call out because of issues with her father, who is very ill.  I ended up being the only person who could take it, which money-wise is good, but time-wise – not what I had planned.  Not only that, the musician for next week needed the music TODAY.  It wasn’t his fault.  If I want someone to blame in that situation, I’d blame Mary.  

Excuse the unexplained rant here.  Mary was the one who created the organ/piano/musician schedule without considering anyone other than herself.  She’s doing exactly what Tracy did at PCRC that pissed me off so damn much.  She makes the schedule to HER liking and the rest of us and just figure it out on our own!  Which is not the way I want to treat people who are offering their time and gifts to the church.  Its unprofessional, unkind and unnecessary.  She just can’t be bothered. End rant.  

But remember that broken copier?  It meant we had to find old copies for everyone and there wasn’t enough and oh my!  I’m looking forward to when she retires and stops making things more complicated than they need to be.  Especially since I’m upending my life this week.  So she and I had to run around to get this music together and then she was all upset cause the copier wasn’t working, which I just ignored because I had already pointed it out to her.  Other people in the service wanted to talk with me about this or that thing.  And all of a sudden Dave is standing at my shoulder wanting to leave for dinner.  Dave and his wife very kindly invited me to Sunday dinner at their house along with another family from church.  Which is great because its yummy food and I get to know people.  But I spent WAY too much time at that house.  I was having a great time and if there wasn’t work waiting for me at church I definitely would have stayed longer.  But I needed to find music for the evening church service.

Mary got annoyed at me when I told her I couldn’t play the organ at the evening service, it would have to be piano.  Originally I was going to play the offertory on organ.  I had a piece that fit perfectly.  I was also the reader for the Scripture lesson.  Until the scheduled pianist had to back out.  This is where I shine.  Throwing together some music, sight-reading some hymns and playing the service – but on the piano, not the organ.  Mary doesn’t understand and thinks the organ is much easier.  Thats fine for her.  She’s not the greatest player in the world to begin with, which is why she thinks organ is so easy.  I’m the greatest player in the world on the piano either, which is why I think thats easy.  I understand the sentiment and where that feeling manifests itself.  But for each person, it manifests itself differently.  Get over it!  We’re not all made identical!  She keeps saying that doing things differently is okay, but I’m starting to think she repeats it for herself rather than anyone else.

I made a mistake when I left Dave and Julie’s house by calling my mother.  Our conversation when about 30 minutes longer than I anticipated.  So I had 30 less minutes to find service music for the evening service and make some decisions.  Then the guy who was playing saxophone showed up about 20 minutes before the service was suppose to start.  And he needed to set up and arrange the music and think over the transpositions, and on and on.  We were still doing mic checks seven minutes before the service was supposed to start!  It was a little comical, but still frustrated me.

The service went great, albeit all the many changes.  The pastor made me blush redder than my top after the offertory.  He pointed out to the congregation that I was not the planned pianist, and how wonderful my worship planning has been and how blessed the church is to have me.  Don’t get me wrong – ego-stroking is nice.  I like it as much as the next person.  But I was a little unprepared for it.  I hate feeling discombobulated.  I kinda know why he did it.  He knew I had been sick and that things have been a little crazy.  He was attempting to recognize what I did and perhaps something I played really moved him.  I just hope it doesn’t become a habit!

After the service (heh, you thought the day was done!), I had to switch vehicles with the guy who is helping me move tomorrow.  He and a few others are coming down here around 1:30 to pack up the van and trailer, follow me up to church and unpack everything.  But we needed to exchange the little secrets about our vehicles and keys and whatnot.  And he needed the address of my apartment.  I’m so grateful for the help, but HATE packing.  Which is what I should be doing.  

Except this entry is becoming too long and I feel like I’m already falling asleep.  I think my best bet is to just go to bed and get a good nights sleep.  I’ll take dirty clothes to my new place and find the closest laundromat.  I bought black trash bags at Meijer’s specifically for that reason.  Tomorrow morning I need to do dishes and clean up the apartment.  Laura and Grace might come over to help me pack up some stuff and perhaps even move.  Maybe I can convince her to hang out here until the guys get here and really help me pack.  I literally just need someone here to say, "Who cares what it is, wrap it up in newspaper and throw it in the box."  And then to help me do that.  She gets done teaching around 8am and doesn’t start up again until around 2:45.  If we can pack up nearly everything in that amount of time, so once the men arrive we just need to load up…  We might be in good condition.  If I can get rid of the majority of everything in here by then, I can spend the afternoon while Laura teaches doing the last bits of stuff.  Vacuuming the carpets and cleaning the bathroom, etc.  Doing all those last minute things then hopefully turning my keys in right before the office closes.  If not, worse case situation – I have to come back on Tuesday to turn in the keys.

Sigh.  I should sleep now though.  I’m tired and probably still recovering from Friday night.  The last night in my apartment.

A part of me is sad.  I’m giving up this freedom.  But another part of me is oh so happy to be getting out of this crappy town with these crappy neighbors and landlords.  Maybe I’ll miss the neighbors a little bit.  I think I’ll like DeHaans as neighbors better though!

Sleep….