It's 3:30am and I can't sleep. The thunderstorm, my anxiety, and my last day of work have all colluded to make sleeping impossible. Add my cats, who seem to be the universe's agents this morning, rubbing themselves all over my sleeping self, and I'm up for the day a bit more than an hour early.
We sold our house earlier this week. We've technically been in escrow for three days on a (probably) 30 day escrow. The inspection and appraisal was yesterday. It's time to start putting things into boxes, which I also did yesterday. I packed two whole boxes, which barely made a dent in a bookcase, and came to the realization that packing up our 1,260 sq. ft. house is going to be more time-consuming than I had anticipated. I'm a bit rattled by the pile of work we're facing in the 3.5-weeks we have left here.
Truth is, I'm daunted. But, you know, every time we jump a hurdle and move closer to this move being a reality, I become simultaneously more anxious and more excited. It's causing me to break out in red splotches, upsetting my rosacea, playing havoc on my emotions, making sleeping impossible, and I keep wondering when I'm going to stop being anxious and start feeling like this is a reality. I think the answer is going to be, when we have the check in the bank and we're driving off into the sunset. Well, we're going east, so I guess we'll be driving off into the sunrise in this particular case.
