Closing Time

So the time has finally come and I have to admit I wasn't expecting it to be so soon. For the last 3 months, my husband and I have been living in his parents’ old house which has not sold yet. There is one part of that situation that has just changed and will ultimately change everything else along with it. This old couple from California just decided to buy the house and while I am excited for my in-laws on finally selling the house, I am vexed at the thought of having to move once again--mid semester. I have to declare, and I have thought about this quite a bit, that among my very most loathed things in life is moving, hangers (yes the one's you put in your closet), and people who chew loudly. I absolutely hate moving. After processing the last few moving experiences over and over in my head and trying to figure out what exactly it is that is causing this abhorrence. With my psychological experience (which is none, but I like to think I have some) I have decided that because the last 5 years of my life have been so completely transient, I really haven't had what one would call a "home". Once I left the nest and moved away for school, my parents sold our old house where I spent my most important developmental years. That was hard. So I moved into the dorms at school for my freshman year. The next year I lived in a two story condo with my friends from the dorms. Then I moved to Hawaii for 3 months and lived in a Hawaiian family's house but at least had my own kitchen (which I never used). Upon my return to the mainland I took refuge in my brother and sister-in-law's house for a year. When I finally got tired of being stuck in a 10 ft by 10 ft room with my sister and sleeping on a trundle bed--which when pulled out took up the entire floor--I moved to another apartment where my sister and I ended up only staying for the summer. I then leached off of a friend of the family's and lived in her house until I got married in December. After we got married, since my in-laws had already moved to their new house, we moved into the old one and kept it alive while people toured through it. So after seeing how many different places I've lived and called home for the past 4 or 5 years, it isn't difficult to see why I hate moving. Another factor in the analysis may be that I have a dangerously large amount of shoes and clothing and it takes me nearly three Subaru Outback carloads to move just those things. What can I say, I love shoes. Anyway, I'm very grateful to have had 3 great rent free months in a large house where I was able to actually separate all my shoes and organize them without them being utterly chaotic after one morning of looking for my maroon Dansko clogs. So the reason I came to my room this evening, put on my pajamas, bundled up in my covers and spread my laptop out on the bed was because my husband had just gotten off the phone with his mother and it is pretty sure that we'll be moving within the next month or so. I was mad. I'm not sure at what or who but to save myself from any familial conflicts; I'm blaming it on my shoes.