Moving is a total pain in my ass.

Seriously. I’m over it. I need a wand so I can magically pack the rest of the shit I own. I mean I’m so over packing that I’ve mailed it in on boxes. Oh, is it vaguely kitchen-like? Throw it in with the spices. Is that a vacuum sealer? Stuff it in the suitcase with the bed linens. I don’t care. Just throw it in a container and get it to the other house and we’ll sort it out there.

Luckily the carpet’s being replaced (because the cats are assholes) so that’s one thing I’m just letting go to pasture. Why am I going to vacuum it when it’s all going to be ripped out? And since about 1400 of the 1700 square feet of space I’m living in is currently covered in carpet, that’s a big ol’ NOPE. We have enough cleaning to do without having to clean something that’s just going to be thrown out.

Throw in the Goodwill runs (we’re on number two), the dump runs (we’re caving on that, we normally just fill the garbage can and wait for pick-up but since we’ve filled it less than 24 hours after weekly pick up for two weeks in a row now we just don’t have that kind of time), Crossfit (the Open started this past weekend and we spent four hours at the gym Saturday doing our open workout), and writing (ahahahahahahahahahaha ugh) and my time is non-existent. The shit you amass just living in a space, I’ll let you. You don’t think you have a lot until you have to move.

This is my life right now.

Is it a great room or is it a storage unit? YOU DECIDE. Will the cat topple that shelving unit? GOD I HOPE NOT. Luckily we never used this room anyway so at least shoving everything in here isn’t actually invading our space. Our informal living room is just roomier, our bedroom is emptier and the front of the house has little more than a cardboard box alley running through it. Now I know why people hire others to actually pack and unpack their things, not just move them. Because I’m totally over this. Granted we’re cleaning up A LOT. Throwing out/recycling/donating a shit ton of stuff. But oh my god I want to light all the bubble wrap on fire.

We’re supposed to sign the title tomorrow and we had a surprise fee dropped on us on the way home Friday afternoon. Like, we were supposed to be zero dollars out of pocket at closing? That’s why we took the higher interest rate? And now the title company is saying we need to bring a cashier’s check for nearly $2000 to sign? No? This dollar amount is nowhere in our financial contract and our contract encompasses the title information, so it’s not like the title is missing entirely. Hopefully we get this sorted out, otherwise someone’s going to have to be dealing with a cranky couple.

On the bright side I’m totally looking forward to decking out my office/den. I was going to buy an oversized sofa chair for it, but ultimately I’m going to put my current couch in there. We have a sectional for the living room and we tucked my couch from when I was single in the great room because my husband hates it. Well, I love it. The thing’s the size of a single bed with giant fluffy pillows and I’ll be damned if I’m getting rid of it.

Initially I was going to store it in what will be our movie room, but we’ll be getting all new furniture for that and if I get that sofa chair for my office there’ll be nowhere to put my sofa. And I’m not getting rid of it. So scratch the sofa chair. Just give me my sofa. Surrounded by bookshelves and a corner desk. OMG I can’t wait. My very own adult room. And Steve will have his own adult room and we’ll have our master bedroom and even the cats will have their own room (AKA the spare bedroom because we literally never have people stay over, ever, so we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it). The dog will have a yard with grass to squish between his toesies (in Arizona grass is a big deal, as you can imagine). And eventually we’ll have a movie room, complete with super cozy furniture, a high definition projector and drop-down screen and black out curtains.

There are aspects of adulting I don’t like, for sure. But most of it is just downright awesome. And I cannot wait to not move again for a long time. In the past five years I’ve moved three times, one of those times was clear across the country. I’m tired of moving. Buying a house saves us from having to do that again for a while (in theory).

Next time you hear from me (hopefully, if the internet gets transferred correctly, my expectations are low on that one) I’ll be writing from my new house. Hooray!

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