Denial

You know that song, "Respect?" R-E-S-P-E-C-T? Yes, I've been chanting a similar sentiment: "D-E-N-I-A-L!"

(I also have a deja vu feeling that I've blogged that before. Denial? Me? Naaaaah!)

So we moved out of SB yesterday. It took about five hours, two boxes of donuts, several Powerades, and six strapping men (and a mom). With a 16 foot truck loaded to the gills with our belongings (seriously, there wasn't even air left to take a deep breath in that truck) and three cars similarly stuffed, we drove way from our home of seven years and hit the highway.

I didn't feel much of anything. It was either because I had already grieved this particular moment (in the preceding 62 times...yes, I made that drive 62 times). Maybe it was because I finally ripped the bandaid off and found some sort of subconscious closure to the move. Maybe it was because I'm ready for this move and the inherent transition.

Or maybe I'm just in denial.

What will happen when we come back in town on Friday to sign the papers and hand over the keys? What will happen when we return to visit our parents and accidentally turn down our old street? Will that happen? Will we forget that we don't live there? Yeah, I'm putting my money on denial!

Several folks came to see us off yesterday. Several helped us move and without being asked, picked up boxes, brooms, vacuums, and helped it all come together. My mom made a huge cooler of sandwiches and fed the soldiers amidst the truck-stuffing. All in all, apart from the raging residual headache I sported from the previous day's bow echo storms, the SB portion went well.

We all left SB and later arrived at my Chicagoland pad. I mean, our Chicagoland pad. We chose to live at my, ahem, our pad until we know what is going on with Jack's job. Plus, even if he scores a phat job, we'd like to stay here and pay off all our debt. Selling the house got us back into the black, but we'd really like to be debt-free. So we're going to swallow our desires for a new condo and hole up in our pad for a while. It's clean, safe, and in a great neighborhood. I just wish it had two bathrooms! I'm not used to living with a boy!

Anyway, before collapsing in a heap, we had to make one final stop: the storage unit. We packed half a house in a 10x10 unit. Stuff is stacked up to the ceiling and so help me if we need something from the bottom boxes (they're stacked 8 boxes high). Regardless, it feels like we're paying rent on a basement that we don't have to clean and is located 4 miles away.

So after another quick stop at the pad to freshen up, we took everyone to BW3's, to thank them for pitching in. We feasted (in the Biblical sense of the word...no fishes or loaves, though) on half the BW3 menu and with full bellies and tired arms/legs, the crew departed my house (darnit! our house!) for SB.

And that was that. We were home. Our first act in OUR home was to set up the lounge chairs on the deck and toast the next chapter of our lives.

Our second act was to get showers and collapse in a heap!