The last two weeks have been a whirlwind, and I’m not sure where to begin. There were several times this past week I had wanted to write about what it felt like to leave a city and people I had gotten attached to. I had wanted to write about what felt like another premature ending and how each time something ends before its time, you realize that you might not get one more sunset over the river or get to try that restaurant you had wanted to try or get to go on that walk… I simply didn’t have the time, or energy to write. While the next few days will be full of things like unpacking, work, and getting stuff taken care of (car inspection, license, etc.) I’m hoping I’ll have some down time to process and write.
One year ago I pulled the moving truck up to my new apartment in Memphis, TN. Yesterday, I pulled a different moving truck (with a lot of the same contents in it) up to our house in State College, PA. Nick, my my cat and trustworthy travel buddy, was a trooper on both trips. He’s not all that great at navigating, he never pumps gas (or pays), but he also doesn’t get car sick and seems perfectly content to sleep most of the trip.
I didn’t like driving the truck any more this time than I did last time. It’s big and lumbering and has a terrible turn radius. At times I felt like I was driving a bounce castle. Potholes rattle your teeth and bones, and the wind can make you feel like you’ll swerve and tip. Other drivers frequently drove in my blind spots or zipped around me when I took hills and turns too slowly for them. I was nervous in every construction zone and hated the highways around the cities (Nashville, Louisville, Cincinnati, Columbus, Pittsburgh) with their 4, 5, and 6 lanes of merging and exiting traffic, many of the cars going faster than I could (the truck has a governor set at about 75 mph). Another fun feature the truck has is that it was great at telling me I had enough gas to go 340 miles, however, when the tank got to about 40 or 50 miles left, it stopped telling me the distance and just said fuel low – which is the type of precision one needs when on an unfamiliar highway not knowing how far until the next exit. It would be a lot more useful to know when I only have twenty miles left in the tank compared to knowing I have 320 miles in the tank. I’m not sure I realized just how sweaty my palms could get nor did I know it could last for hours on end. All this, and I had the smaller (12 ft.) truck. I swear, next time, I’m either getting rid of all of my stuff, or hiring movers. I also said that a year ago.
In Memphis I hired two guys to help me get my stuff on to the truck. They were pleasant enough, but dinged a few things up. I unloaded everything on my own. I suppose if I weren’t on the 4th floor of an apartment in downtown Memphis, I might have done the load-in on my own too. Right now, almost all of my stuff is in a garage. The house I moved in to is fully furnished, which is convenient, but also doesn’t quite feel like home… and, as I quickly found out, isn’t exactly cat proof (Nick already found some fake plants to chew on and some dead bugs to eat). I figure I’ll give myself a few months to settle in, check out some towns and neighborhoods, and then maybe look at getting my own place.
As part of my moving process, back in Memphis I tried to sell a few of my things online. I had thought about writing an entire post about the experience, but decided otherwise. It definitely pushed my trigger of feeling like my time wasn’t being considered. I had three or four different people completely flake on me. They would agree to buy something, we’d set a time, they’d miss their time, I’d write and ask if they were still coming, they’d respond, sorry they can’t. In one instance, the person said they were on their way (they were buying a dresser). I loaded it on to a hand truck and took it downstairs to make it easier… and then waited. After about twenty minutes, I texted to see what was going on. Eventually they texted back – they had trouble getting a truck, and then they didn’t have enough money on their pre-paid card to get a truck, and had to go to the bank. I could see this was going to be an issue. When they tried to pay me with cashapp, they were short. But… they restored my faith in humanity a bit when they followed through with the rest of the money. Unfortunately, when you’re counting your time left in a place in days, losing an hour here and there to people not considerate enough to text a cancellation kinda sucks.
In the coming days and weeks I’ll probably try to get rid of some more stuff. Of course, first I have find the stuff I need. This morning I spent half-an-hour looking for my coffee or my k-cups. That’s half-an-hour without coffee, cranky in a cold garage as I open box after box trying to remember where I put them. Luckily, I won’t have that issue tomorrow – though I’m sure it will be something else. Now that I’m here, I’ll have to see if I can establish some new routines and re-establish some old ones. Moving is a major disruption… and in some respects I’ve done it three times (if I count the ex moving in) in the past two years. It would be nice to settle in a bit.
…I’ve stared at the screen for the past 10 – 15 minutes trying to figure out how to end this. I suppose it’s appropriate that a post that didn’t know where to begin also doesn’t know where to end – other than tired, a little sore, and ready for bed.