We had two weeks to pack before our moving day. Here's the thing with me, not only do I not like packing (and, let's be honest, who does?), but I'm really bad at it. I kind of put it off the first week, and then realized that I needed to be more motivated the second week.
I went down into the basement and just randomly wandered around, occasionally putting things in boxes, but I really had no direction! Finally, my mom came down and told me what to do. And then I'd wander around aimlessly again after having finished that one task. But, I was packed in time for us to get everything into one van, two trucks, and a car (it wasn't all just my stuff. Honest!). I have never had that much stuff in my car.
Two interesting things that happened the last week before the move: First, the Thursday before I was in charge of a craft night for the women in my ward (church congregation). I had already told them I was moving, and many of them asked me a lot about where I was going to. One woman who had helped me plan the activity talked to me a lot. I told her about how quickly it had all happened and all the situations I had just explained. And she said, "When things work together like that, then there's a reason." And there probably is. I don't know what the reason is, and I may never know, but it must just be the next stop on this road called life.
The second happened Friday night. We packed what we could in Dad's van, and I just started getting this sinking feeling. I had felt fine all week--little anxiety about the whole situation. I packed a little bit more, with a sad feeling in my heart. Finally, I went upstairs to get a hug from Mom and I just started crying. It was like, in that moment, it all became real. So, I talked to her about what I was feeling and the thoughts going through my head: living with M, a new ward, new city, my fears about what it will do to me and how I'll react. She let me talk and gave me a few tips and head's-ups.
The next day we moved. We live on the third floor, which is a nice place to live (no one above you), but a horrible place to move into. Fortunately, M has some strong friends who helped us move in. Mom and Dad stuck around for a little bit, and helped me set up my bedroom. Mostly, it was just because I wasn't quite ready for them to leave yet. But when they left, there weren't any tears. I spent the evening alone because M went out with a friend. I just finished setting up my room and read a book. We didn't have TV (I needed to buy some rabbit ears), and we still don't have an internet, so I am so grateful for my new iPhone and it's data plan!
The next day we weren't to church. It was the first time in two years I'd gone to a single's ward, and I was a little nervous about it. But everyone was so friendly! We didn't even need to try to introduce ourselves, everyone just came up and asked us who we were, were we came from, what we were doing. It was kind of fun to see people's reactions when we said we'd known each other since fourth grade. The rest of the Sunday included M and I laying on the floor watching movies in a moving induced stupor.
The next post will be about my new commute!