I know we are all living in limbo, but I’m in double limbo.
Like everyone else, I’m waiting for movie theaters and restaurants to reopen. I’m searching fruitlessly for paper towels. I’m wondering when we’ll be able to walk the local trails. When will the thrift stores open?
Also. I scheduled a date (July 29) for Mayflower to come and pick up our belongings. I’ve ordered a chair and had it sent to my new house in Minnesota. I’ve purged and sorted and sorted and purged. I’ve packed boxes and driven carloads of stuff to Goodwill.
I’m waiting, waiting, waiting. I have a new life waiting for me–though from past experience, I know that I will adjust to a new setting, a new house, new friends and discover that I’m still the same me–minus two kids who don’t plan to move to Minnesota. <insert crying face emoji>
So my nest will be smaller and emptier and I’m sure that I feel distraught about that but I’m burying my feelings in fatigue and chocolate, so I can’t really feel them properly.
I’ve told my husband not to tell anyone about this blog but of course, he already did because our new next door neighbor is a Blogger (hi neighbor, I hope you don’t look up my blog because I’m just a lower-case blogger, typing away on this thing intermittently for 17 years now . . . ).
She’s a real life Blogger with 250,000 followers on Facebook and I’ve just been rambling on here for years without making a ripple anywhere . . . though as I think about it, I did manage to parlay my blogging hobby into an actual paying blogging gig which then transitioned into an 11-year paying job with health insurance and the like, so I guess I shouldn’t be so embarrassed. (Should I? Don’t answer that.)
I haven’t told my work supervisor about the impending changes in my life (four months from now!) because it just seems too far away to give notice, but two of my co-workers know. I just accidentally told them and it’s a relief to not have to pretend one hundred percent of the time that I’ll be in this exact current life for the rest of mine.
I’ve got places to go and things to do but I’ll be here in my house, washing my hands frequently and baking cookies, watching mindless television and trying to stop scrolling long enough to read.