I don’t mean office workers, which would be odd indeed, but men who are pruning, planting, paving and pounding--you know, beautifying the property. Not my property, since I of course have none, but the lovely three-bedroom home and environs that belong to my lovely landlords. If their home were a bridge, I’d be the troll who’s been living beneath it (in the proverbial tiny in-law apartment) for the past seven, nay, almost eight years. And the mere thought of having to move (which, if and when the house sells, is surely my fate) is about as appealing as going to dinner with a bipolar cobra.
Which, trust me, I’ve done, but just--never mind.
The real problem—besides finding a place I can bear to live in and also afford--a feat I can pull off only by robbing a bank or giving myself a thorough lobotomy—is that Moving is one of life’s Major Stressors and Major Stress is my Major Enemy.
Granted, it’s everyone’s enemy, and, granted as well, going to jail (which surely must count as the worst move of all) is a thousand times more stressful yet, but oh my god, I cannot even tell you how thoroughly I do not want to do it.
It’s not the tedious purging and packing, it’s the being uprooted and dropped alone into the unknown.
What I’m thinking—and I know this is just as whiny as it is obvious-- is that when you move with someone, it’s not so upsetting because you’re bringing a Known into the Unknown.
Which in itself makes the Unknown more Known and therefore less frightening, hence not quite so heinously stressful and likely to undo all the hard work of your doctors and meds and send you flying into the abyss.
But what I’m also thinking, because I just must, is that the only thing worse than moving into the unknown alone--especially when you’re of a certain age which only keeps getting more and more certain--is moving into it with a bipolar cobra who will make the rent cheaper but ruin your life.
And that, Dear Readers--if indeed you're still there--is what I like to think of as Positive Thinking.
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There you go! Even a bipolar cobra couldn't argue with that positive thinking!
ReplyDeleteNooooo! Don't want to discuss moving!!! I, too, am facing this in a month or so, and finding bipolar cobras suddenly preferable. Ugh. Meaningless questions like, "why do I have all of this crap?" suddenly give way to shrieks of, "SCREW IT, I AM THROWING IT ALL AWAY!" Of course that will end in hysterical tears later on...
ReplyDeleteBring on the cobras.
*headdesk*
I make it very clear to anyone I help move that it is the ultimate sacrifice.
ReplyDeleteMmm hmm. More than a passing familiarity with the bipolar cobra, huh? You must have met my ex daughter-in-law.
ReplyDeleteMs. G, catching up on a few of your columns ... gad, do I ever relate to the moving stress! I've had that hanging over my head for three years: same deal, big house/yard being remodeled, lots of workmen tromping around (it was a flippin' nightmare, to tell the truth -- landlords trying to drive me out: turning off the heat during the April cold snaps, cutting my phone wire in 2 places, work starting at 6:30 am, continuing til 7:30 pm; coming into my place without notice, etc.) ... but I survived it, and now I have a lovely landgal who's actually glad I'm there, who likes my cat and the way I keep house, and the anvil hanging over my days & nightmares has been removed. If you're in the City, you may be a protected tenant ... check it out. Point being, I totally get the stress and horribleness of having to pack up and relocate to the Unknown, having to make a decision on every single thing you own -- ditch or pack? -- so I'm with you on this. Where are you looking?
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