We are three weeks in of being *officially* moved into our new house. So far I have had one (fairly small) tantrum and one medium-sized episode of tears.
Why? Why is moving — even when the move is something you are excited for — why is it emotional?
It’s a change. And change, to most humans, is scary. I do not cope well — in the beginning — with life adjustments as big of a deal as moving. When I left college — something I was not at all ready to say goodbye to — I cried harder and longer than any breakup I had ever gone through. When I found out I was pregnant? I was in shock — denial even — right up until a baby came out of my body. When I moved from Chicago — a place that truly felt like home to me, in which I never pictured myself leaving — to become a resident of KENTUCKY? I fell into a hole of depression that lasted well over a year.
So you see my apprehension for this next (maybe final?) move.
Take Me Home Tonight
In the midst of moving duties — calling people to set up our Internet, water, gas and electric, purchasing items from home stores to make this rental feel happier, and contemplating which bed comforter says “a good night’s rest” better than the other options — I’m finding out I thrive on routine and do not enjoy when that routine is interrupted.
What do I mean by this?
While I enjoy my (almost too) flexible schedule with work, I have discovered the non-structure structure of my recent days causes mayhem in my brain.
My routine of waking up, making an extra-hot-extra-foam-cappuccino, checking my Erin Condren planner for articles due while preparing for upcoming meetings, getting a good workout in, sitting down somewhere for a solid four-five hours to get work done, and going home to cook dinner is a routine I have grown to love. This is a routine I can get behind. I’m still doing what I want to when I want to do it, but I’m doing it in a way which makes me feel satisfied and productive.
And because I have grown accustomed to this routine, I now expect it to get tasks accomplished. So when something — something like, say, moving — interrupts this well-designed-for-me workflow? I have a mental allergic reaction to it, which cues the emotional uproar.
Another Sex And The City Tie-In
You know that episode where Miranda tells Steve she has a window that he missed when he tries to initiate some morning delight? It’s Saturday morning. Her mind is on getting her clothes to the dry cleaner and her body to spin class. She has worked hard all week and this moment is the moment she has been looking forward to for days because it is hers. I believe the phrase she speaks to him is, “I respond well to limits.”
I love this because it’s so true, and I, too, respond well to limits! The limit in this case, DOES exist! The more I watch Sex and The City reruns, come to think of it, the more Miranda becomes my favorite. She has very relatable freak-outs.
Which reminds me…
Okay, priorities. Where is Whole Foods? How far away is CycleBar? Oh my god. CycleBar is a 30-minute drive from my “house?” Will Cycle614 live up to the fitness intensity and near perfect body sculpting that CycleBar provided me with? I’ve only taken a few classes so far, so I guess time will tell.
And then there’s the house…
If you think figuring out your personal style takes a lifetime (it truly does and I’m still searching for a brand that gets me already), how in the cahoots do you figure out your home style? In this way, I relate to Leandra Medine. She told Architectural Digest that her confidence hasn’t stretched into home decor yet, which provided me much relief as you would think effortlessly being able to outfit yourself would transcend naturally into adorning floors and walls. Turns out it doesn’t.
So here I’m feeling grateful. It’s nice to have people to relate to, even if one is a fictitious character and the other is a famous influencer who probably did not read the many emails I sent her asking to be part of the ManRepeller squad.
I’m cursing myself for preaching minimalism but not practicing it, now. Why am I buying things from Home Goods that I’m not even excited about instead of taking my time — like I want to — to find pieces and artwork and rugs and plants that truly, madly, deeply resonate with me?
Because this house is temporary. Another temporary house to feel out a new city and a new neighborhood. Another temporary time period in my life that I need to learn to adjust to like an adult.
Interviews, Interviews, Interviews
On top of adjusting to a new house and new schedule, we have to find new childcare for a 2.5 year old, which, if you are a parent in this situation, you know is a job in and of itself. So we have been bouncing around from one daycare to the next seeing if “that feeling” comes over us — that feeling that he will be safe, comfortable, happy and educated (and potty trained).
Well, we did have that feeling with a place, but childcare costs compared to what we paid in Lexington were a little out of my payment comfort zone. (I’m still thinking about those gold Gucci loafers)
Nonetheless, I need my sense of self back, I have work to catch up on, and he needs to learn structure amidst other humans his size.
But, leave it up to the CFO to erase my fantasy of freedom that is almost always blocked by financial constraints. Here Jake comes carrying a huge cloud of logic to rain on my carefree parade:
“Until you figure out what you want to do, it makes sense to stay home with him. This is temporary.”
“Um temporary for YOU,” I’m screaming inside. Screaming because I don’t want to do it and screaming because I know deep down he’s right. And if we’re looking at the bigger picture here, figuring out what I want to do might not come until I am 60 years old. Hasn’t he been reading the “Future is Female” articles I have? Telling me to stop worrying about becoming a 7-figure business owner in my twenties because the greatest success comes when you are older?
We clash on things like this often. He is calm and logical. I am not calm and logical. I am excitable and reactive.
Another adjustment I’m still trying to adjust to. In this moment, I’m feeling like I need a glass of wine.
Thanks for reading!