Truckin'

If you don't mind me ad-libbing another corny '70's song! We were definitely truckin' today. It's official; I formally live in two time zones now. It did get a bit confusing, as Chicago's an hour behind. I will either have two clocks on the wall or two watches on my wrist! Because I'm that cool.

The move went smoothly. My brother, Zibby, helped with the move. We were lucky to have gotten a beautiful, brisk, crisp, cool day for the move. NOT. It was in the 80's and the humidity rivaled that found in the heart of the Amazon. Zibby and Jack went through multiple shirts, well, mopping off. I'll leave it at that!

I'm not sure if many of you know this, but I rented this house sight unseen. We drove past the home and saw its neighborhood, experienced a sample commute to work, and it was within our price range. Those were the three characteristics we needed to fill: location, price, and safety. Check, check, and check. Plus, I know the owners and Coach, a dear co-worker, promised to adopt me in my new home. That's actually pretty neat, as I'll be flying solo soon enough.

So we drove up to the house, the tropical humidity wilting our very souls, and waited. One of the owners met us there. It was all well and good until we stepped inside. We all took a whiff of the inside air (mind you, which had been closed up for 3 weeks) and I immediately thought of my great-grandmother who could only be described as smelling like formaldehyde. Once we got the A/C blasting at full-force, the air cleared a bit. But that didn't stop me from running to the fancy Target and buying every Glade product ever created. When we return to Chicago, we'll probably be able to smell the Clean Linen before we get off the Interstate.

In all seriousness, the house is fine. It's good. It works. I have lots of space, newer appliances, and it couldn't be in a better location. With a bit of careful nesting, I'll have the place feeling homey in no time. I visited my mom, SkyBlue, tonight and raided her "pending garage sale" pile. I have a couple of plate rails in the kitchen and needed some "stuff" to fill them!

The house is moved in to and my favorite material belongings are two hours away. It's okay, though; the thing worrying me most is finding some semblance of routine in a hurricane of chaos. I thrive on routine and between establishing a new career, streamlining a new commute, meeting hundreds of new co-workers, bouncing between campuses, setting up my home, and getting used to life without a hubby, I'm somewhat worried that routine will escape me for a while. Right? I mean, can I continue hoping that routine will find me soon enough!? Will things *ever* be routine again?

Yikes. Big questions after a long day. I better let these percolate and think about them tomorrow, when my brain has recharged a bit.