I'm hoping that writing this out will make me feel better, so here goes. For the past couple of days, I've been feeling the dreaded moving stress creeping up to club me over the head. Today, I feel almost panicky and definitely weird.
See, David has carved out tomorrow afternoon through Tuesday to get working on packing stuff. He has an obscure govt. holiday on Monday, and every other Friday he has the option of taking off. (Ha! Like that ever happens.... ) But this time he is, and we have to get to work.
And I'm remembering all the times we've moved before and how much I loved it. Not much. Actually, I usually become emotionally paralyzed right around moving time. I look around, feel completely overwhelmed, and think I would just like to crawl under a bed and hide until its over. I hate, hate, hate moving. I've done it a lot. I know what it always looks like. And I want to shoot it right between the eyes before it can come within 10 feet of my house again.
Having a toddler and morning sickness doesn't make me any more joyful about it than usual. I hate the feeling of powerlessness I get every single time. And I feel useless compared to David, who always wades in with a shovel and just plows the never ending mountains of stuff into submission. In moving, I am definitely the weaker sex. I'm just glad that he's so nice to me about it.
We'll get started, and I'll feel better to be started instead of sitting around and dreading it. But if you could pray for me over the weekend, that would be great.