Sometimes things happen in an author’s life that put a damper on his or her writing. Recently, moving has been the thing that has gotten in my way. We still had a month on our lease, so we started looking at new places that we might have wanted to live in before renewing our lease. We found a place that we really liked, but we had to move in a lot earlier than we planned in order to secure it. There has been so much scheduling and financial transactions leading up to the move, that most of my extra time has been taken up. Then the move came this past weekend.

Friday started off with a trip to IKEA to obtain a bed frame and other random stuff we needed before we could start moving things. I think IKEA might be purgatory for a few different reasons. First off, the simultaneous love and hate that I experience makes me feel in limbo. When looking for household items and furniture on the website, I am delighted to find things within my budget. The actual trip to the store makes my excitement short-lived and leads me down a road to possible anxiety attacks. Secondly, when navigating through the store, I always feel lost and in a continuous loop of some other reality. I know there are maps and stuff, so maybe I’m just dumb, but it seems like there are bedroom options within the kitchen area and everything just kind of bleeds together for me. There is always a feeling that I am in some Twilight Zone-esque dollhouse. Once I finally navigate to the warehouse area, I prepare to put my back out of commission taking the different items of the shelves and arranging them on a cart. I actually prefer the physical pain over the anxiety I get in the other areas because I can see an exit at this point. The final stage of the IKEA experience is trying to put stuff together with directions that have a Dilbert/Ziggy lovechild giving me a smug look that makes me want to karate chop a $50 dresser. Anyways, I love IKEA.

Saturday and Sunday became one ridiculous blur of frustration, physical pain, and mental anguish. Moving is always going to be stressful. Moving before you planned on it is flat out ludicrous. As I write this, I still have no idea how to get my couch and love seat out of my old place. I don’t remember if they were delivered in pieces and put together or if there was a wizard there when we first moved in, but I cannot find any logical way that the furniture is going to fit through the door. We ended up buying a new couch after seeing how worn our old one was and getting frustrated with the brainteaser of how the couch fit in the first place.

After that, it was just trips back and forth trying to make the new place livable and throwing away things that we forgot we even owned. Every time I move, it reminds me of two things: 1) Downsize! Downsize! Downsize! Live simple! 2) I love my Kindle! Besides the fact that I can continue reading on my phone during the 15 minute gaps in the day, it is so nice not to have to lug all of my books around any more.

We are continuing to get settled, and I cannot wait to get back to writing!



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