Anyway, on to the real writing.
Jack and I were the busiest of bees as of late. And now very suddenly the flurry is done and I sit stunned by the fact that we can get back to our regular, boring, old schedule. Part of me is so grateful for that and part of me is not.
Our busyness started around Thanksgiving. We went out of town to spend the day of thanks with the Crouch side of the family. I was excited because we had looked at a new place, put in an application for it and been approved. It was finally official, we were getting out of the old army barracks that barely passed as a liveable “townhouse style apartment.” Upon our return to Seattle, we (that is I) began packing and sorting through all of our crap. Holy cow, we have a lot of crap. A. Lot.
Finally on December 17th it was time for the epic move to take place. By about 1pm everything was moved from one place to the other. Due to the fact that living out of boxes makes me crazier than normal I immediately began to try to put everything in its right place, even though there was very little method in the madness. By the 18th, Jack’s room was in fairly alright order, the living room was coming together with ease, the kitchen was looking stellar, but my bedroom…that was another story. Everything that couldn’t find a place in the common rooms was put in my room. So I slept in a bedroom full of boxes for a couple nights.
On the 19th I cleaned the old place and washed my hands of it. It was the most half assed cleaning I’d ever done. And then the next day I was up “early” to pack and leave town again to spend Christmas with my parents. Even though I was aware that the reason for leaving was a holiday during which you exchange gifts, I forgot the presents anyway. My little sister had to get them from my new place before she left.
The Christmas holiday was spent with the Goerz side of the family. We had a fabulous time with them even though my mother had just had some pretty major surgery about three days before Christmas. My sister and I vowed to help out as much as possible. So we were put in charge of decorating the tree, wrapping gifts, stuffing stockings, and making the all important Christmas dinner. As a child and even in my early adulthood I always saw Christmas as a time of relaxation. After taking on so many of my mother’s duties this year I see it’s truly not. I always wondered why my mom felt so busy and why she couldn’t get cards out in time. I see now. My eyes have been opened. It’s because during the holidays moms don’t really get a break. In fact it’s like overtime. I don’t think I’ve experienced this properly yet because my son is still young and I’ve never hosted Christmas at my house. But it really is a squeeze to get everything in that you want to, even if you do start right after Thanksgiving, (which is the only appropriate time to start preparing for Christmas). I did get at least one afternoon off when my parents offered to hang out with Jack, so my sis, bro-in-law and cousin could go downtown for some shopping.
When the time came to leave I was sad to go, but for the first time in two years I was actually excited to get home. It was odd for me to feel that again. I think what was even odder was the fact that I didn’t realize how truly miserable I was in that townhouse. I feel like a different person in my new place. It feels like a home, not just some temporary place I am while I wait for my life to reset itself. It was odd because at the time I knew I was unhappy I just didn’t realize how much my location had to do with it.
So now here I sit tapping away while I listen to the glorious silence of not sharing walls and a neighbor who is hardly ever home. So lovely. Things are winding down again and soon we’ll fall into a routine and I’ll long for something to break the monotony of life. That’s when I’ll go on vacation! I may love where I live now, but vacations are truly outrageous.