Well, after three weeks of flat-out, knock-down, drag-out work on this new house, I am tired. Dog tired. Plumb worn out. Beat. Completely knackered.
Apparently, there is a difference between renovating a house before age 40 and after age 40. DUH, you say. Well, now, give me a break here. It’s my first time. I didn’t know I would be a human pretzel after painting four closets. And I’m pretty sure my knees used to have more padding.
It’s not the pretzel part so much, actually, as the post-pretzel part. In other words, not the bending so much as the unbending. Anyway, if you are over 40, you know what I mean. The next day after any hard manual labor pretty much sucks. (I don’t know how people deal with toddlers at this age. Seriously.)
And then there’s this little packout thing coming up in –yikes–less than three weeks. Most people think I am insane. I prefer the term “highly focused.” BUT, I will say that there really isn’t anything I need to do about this move–physically speaking–until the last two weeks or so. I mean, yeah, there’s appointments and all, and I’ve got all that scheduled and am running through them, but really what would be I doing now except organizing and re-organizing my stuff?
Or, more likely, worrying about organizing my stuff, but not actually being able to do anything about it, because I’m using my stuff? That being the whole point of having it in the first place, right? (And if I’m not using it, do I really care what happens to it?)
Maybe it’s better to stay busy with a completely different project until a few days before packout, then deal with all the moving insanity quickly. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.
I will say that I am sleeping like a baby. Or, more accurately, a toddler after a six-hour playdate. Which never happens three weeks before packout. Except for this time. I’m just saying: some well-timed demo can be good thing.
Anyway, we’re almost there. I need to get my before-and-afters organized and post them. I’ll do that next week. The painters came today–after we finally got HOA approval YESTERDAY- and even the primer coat was a huge improvement over the barfy 70s beige. I can’t wait to see what it looks like by tomorrow afternoon!
Next step: “borrowing” a few plants from my somewhat overgrown front yard to plant at the new place. Anything that has made it this long in my current yard will probably survive until I get back. And if it doesn’t, well, it didn’t cost me much.
By the way, I’m enjoying the fact that everyone I have final appointments with (doctor, dentist, hairdresser, etc.) says “see you in three years.” Why, yes, I believe you will. Because this is my home. I can leave for a little while, no problem. But, screw this global citizen thing. I ain’t no rolling stone. I’m more of a yo-yo: I always come back. I’ve got perennials to check on.