It rained Friday afternoon.  I prayed that we would be able to load the bedroom and dining room furniture that had been donated to me in the open trailer and get it to the new place without ruining everything.  We covered things the best that we could and hoped the rain that had begun to taper off wouldn’t suddenly become another downpour.  That wet night made me appreciate the hot sun the next day as over 15 friends and assorted older children converged to help me move.

Move.  It seemed like such a relative term.  We gathered up industrial grade trash bags filled with our belongings that had been salvaged from a drenched apartment.  Wet boxes held crystal serving pieces that barely had a scratch on them.  Crates borrowed from a nearby grocery store held soaking wet yearbooks from middle school and high school where mold had rapidly grown over the past week.  More memories that had to be thrown out.

Less than two hours later, those bags and boxes sat piled on a vinyl green tarp spread out in the living room to protect the pale carpet from any debris or mud that was brought inside.  We will be going through those bags for at least the next week, if not more.  Sorting, cleaning, tossing, and saving.

We were still staying with a friend since the new place wasn’t anywhere near ready to be stayed in overnight.  It was nice not to have to sort though bags and boxes to find shampoo or a towel that may or may not need to be laundered before it could be pressed into service.  That time would come all too soon.  For the moment, we enjoyed being in her home and using it as a base camp of sorts.  The alarm clock was set to go off early for a full morning of church activities.   After church, the frantic pace of my to-do list was quickly wearing on my nerves.  Too much needed to happen in too short a time period.  By 6:00 that evening I decided that The Boy and I needed to call it a night and spend some quality time on the couch.  The Girl had left earlier in the day for an overnight trip to a theme park with her scout troop.  I was glad she decided not to cancel on them at the last minute.

Earlier in the week, I made the decision to use a portion of my savings along with monies donated by my coworkers to purchase a living room set.  None of the upholstered items or wood pieces, with the exception of a small side board, were salvaged from the flooded living room of the apartment.  With it being Memorial Day weekend, there were sales and bargains to be had at most furniture stores.

Monday morning I woke up at 4:30 a.m. and couldn’t get back to sleep.  This was much later than I’ve been sleeping lately.  I tossed and turned for about an hour before grabbing a nearby magazine and read in bed for the next little bit.  I gave up on drifting off when the sun began to shine through the window’s wooden shutters.  It was easier to quit fighting it, make a pot of coffee, and enjoy the silence of the early morning.  An hour later, E-Dubya shuffled into the room and joined me on the couch for some cuddle time. 

We ate a lazy breakfast and then headed down to Ocala to a furniture store there I’d always wanted to visit.  It was a brief, yet successful shopping trip that we capped off with a visit to Chuck E. Cheese’s for The Boy to have some pizza and play video games for a little while. 

When I can manage to spend large chunks of time at home I see things from two different perspectives.  I see what all we’ve accomplished already in last few days and at the same time I see what all there is left to do and that thought exhausts me.  This has not been a normal move, not in any sense of the word.  There aren’t neatly taped and labeled boxes stacked along the walls of each room waiting to be systematically unpacked.  There is chaos all around me and I just want it over and settled.  I’m tired of the knots in my stomach that are ever present these days.  I’m tired of the million things to do, and the unrealistic expectation I know I’ve set of myself in accomplishing these tasks.  I’m ready to sit on my sofa and be bored.  I want to stare at the wall and have absolutely nothing to do but stare.  Those days are coming.  I do see them.  I’m just impatient.