... because I am DONE with packing.
Oh, don't misread that I'm actually done packing ... I'm just done with packing. There IS a difference.
For the third time in five weeks I am packing up our eight suitcases and 4 carry-ons. An insane amount of cr*p that I'm stuck schlepping around because the movers decided to condense our pack-out into one day. Remember?
However, this time, I'm packing for the BIG move. The one that has us leaving California and finally becoming Virginia State residents.
In between the packing and organizing, I'm working with 3 different moving companies to have our 3 shipments of "stuff" delivered to us starting the day after we close on the house. A small feat considering each company has their own set of contractors who they have to contact to secure the dates we want ... during prime moving season.
Thankfully, with just minor complications, every delivery is now confirmed.
And my Land Rover? Sitting safe and sound at my friend's house as we speak.
And our mortgage? Moving along with the underwriter.
In all, a process that is slowly coming together, piece by piece, at the very last possible minute. Though, should I have expected anything different?
Wish me luck and sanity tomorrow ...
... that all our bags make it there in one piece
... that Grady somewhat sits quietly on the plane
... that no child has a colossal meltdown in the airport
... that the passengers around me offer help rather than criticism
... and when we arrive in Virginia, that I don't look like I need my friend (who's meeting me at the airport) to bring me more than one cocktail ...
Two at the most.