Today is moving day, and we’re still not packed. We gave our landlord two-months notice, and I thought for sure I’d have everything organized and ready to go by now.
Oh well, the kids are ready. Three-year-old Lucas and my husband, Kevin, were discussing the impending move when we first decided:
L: When are we going to move?
K: It’ll be about two months.
L: Why?
K: We have to get the house ready.
L: How are we going to move the house to —?
K: It won’t be easy.
L: I’ll help you push it.
So I have lots of excuses about why I’m not ready: kids and work and papers to grade and novels to read and quizzes to make and papers to copy, etc., etc.
I used to say that I did my best work at the last minute: cramming for exams, pulling together a research paper in a frenzied Sunday afternoon at the library, saving the front-page story two seconds before my page editor was screaming for it, sitting down at the computer with ten notebooks of pieces of poems and pulling a pure gem out of it all.
But it’s just not worth it. It drives me insane.
Luckily, the older I get, the more organized I become, especially in my job. My files are still not as together as I’d like them to be, but I have gotten better about putting files back when I’m done with them. The worst part is the brand-new material that doesn’t yet have a place; I stacked a pile of it in my storage crate yesterday afternoon, so it wouldn’t be in my sub’s way.
So, yeah, here I sit, about to cram again.
I’m excited about the being-there, but not so much about the getting-there. (Especially when it’s 12:30, and there’s so much work to be done, and I know I’ll probably be without home Internet service for a few days at least because — even though they initially said they did — our cable company doesn’t go out that far, and we’re having to pay hundreds of dollars upfront for a satellite, and the monthly bill is doubling, and I didn’t have enough time to make installation arrangements…)
It’s worth it, though. The house is big enough for each of our three boys to have his own room. Plus, it’s in the country next to a field where horses graze; since my husband and I both grew up in the country, we feel sort of like we’re going back home.
So maybe instead of packing it all up and renting the truck, we should just take little Lukie up on his generous offer. :P
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