Keeping the house a secret was really hard for me. After I got engaged, I was done keeping huge secrets. This particular secret, because it was delayed for so long, was seriously grueling. It forced me to deal with living in the moment, instead of waiting for tomorrow to come and dwelling in the past. I realized around April that it became a trigger for postpartum depression so I pushed away all the excitement and anticipation, stopped packing, stopped daydreaming, and lived my life from day to day, even though we would go to the construction site twice a week. I have a Teddy Ruxpin song called, “Sometimes You Have to Take Your Time” and this was an embodiment of that song. Honestly, I couldn’t make up excuses to procrastinate so I stopped using it as an excuse not to do things like sign up for yoga classes and get jewelry stuff done. Now I’m just angsty because we either get keys on Friday or Monday. Hopefully Friday so we can start getting stuff done. But at the same time, Monday would give me the weekend to breathe and not skip yoga on Saturday.
Jesse was fretting over his lack of exercise because he’s been almost sick since our Fresno trip. I said he needs to rest tonight (lots of field work today), then he can go Monday, regardless if we get keys or not. Class isn’t until 7, so if we get keys, he can just meet me at the house, scurry happily for a little bit, then go to jujitsu. If we get the keys on Friday, that isn’t stopping me from going to yoga on Saturday. Call it what you will, but I’m trying to maintain some sense of normality, despite the fact that my new normal is suddenly changing again. The solace is that we’ll probably never move again. You’d think that packing up the apartment would be easy, but it carries a strange bag of mixed emotions.
Restlessness because we don’t have the keys in hand yet.
Anxiety due to the redefining of home and everything normal. More anxiety looking at the entire contents of the apartment and shoving them into boxes.
Anticipation to set up the kitchen and my new jewelry studio.
Happiness because I get more space to breathe.
Contentment because I get to decorate!
Joy to stock my pantry full of foodstuffs from Trader Joe’s and 99 Ranch Market.
Pride to be able to say, “This is ours. We did it!”
Quite frankly, it’s time to donate most of my tank tops… my boobs are never going to be the same until after I finish having babies and I do prefer Nordstrom B.P. tanks and Gap tanks. American Eagle Outfitters’ tanks were excellent pregnancy tank tops. Hehehe. It’ll be nice to be organized again. Because the house has been looming over our heads for so long, it’s been easier to say, “whatever” when it comes to organizing and folding the laundry. My pile of DOOM is now living in the bassinet, waiting to either be worn or packed with the breakables. UGH.
Today I need to at least get the bachelor table packed up, read a bit in “Game of Thrones”, and run the dishwasher. Yes, boring house chores, probably some office work, then some jewelry stuff in between.