Living among boxes, tripping hazards everywhere.

I hate an incomplete move.

Being nomadic, I get a lot of practice packing and unpacking. Being neurotic, I fear losing and/or breaking things and want to minimize the chaos of messy areas. Therefore I have the act of moving down to a science. An in-town move was usually four to six days, then I’d begin re-arranging things until everything “works”.

That was when I could drive.

This go round, it took us six days just to get our stuff here and clean the old place. My poor wife pulled double shifts; working during the day, moving in the evenings (in the pouring rain), to keep my stress down and to keep me from trying to do too much on my own. (Did I mention my wife is a saint? She only killed three passers-by this week and that’s just normal PMS-level grumpiness.)

After the long, slow, wet move… we still aren’t finished.

Before signing the lease on the new place, my wife negotiated a whole new laundry room, a washer and dryer, and our own water heater for just $25 more a month. (Did I mention my wife is a shark in negotiations?) The drawback? I’m living in a construction zone.

Until the construction is finished, we’re in unpacking limbo. I have no rear speakers (therefore no surround sound), the living room furniture doesn’t quite line up, half of my wardrobe is dirty, and cooking is a juggling act. I “finished” unpacking the kitchen and C “finished” the bathroom but they’re still buried in as many boxes as the living room and bedroom.

A misunderstanding on the start date caused the snafu, and our slow move didn’t help, but in the end it’s to our benefit.

It’s the mean time that sucks.

C isn’t used to an unpacked home, and is getting antsy. Unfortunately, when she gets antsy about storage, she buys furniture. I try to explain that we only have so many square inches of floor space to dedicate to new furniture – so we have to maximize what each new piece can hold – but she just looks at me like a kid being told that they can’t go to Disney World next week because it’s their grandmother’s birthday and we have to go to the Cabbage Festival.

My white cane hasn’t been touched in a week. It’s hard to carry a cane and a moving box at the same time and I haven’t ventured out of the house. Getting used to my new indoor environment is taking all my spare time, but I’m getting the itch to wander – if anything just to get away from the boxes.

They say that everything will be finished by next week. I hope I can keep my wife from buying a new bed or bringing home a Craigslist sofa until then.


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