The Storm Before The Calm … Or Something

Sep 28, 2010 by winjaw

And so we prepare for the nightmare/opportunity – depending on one’s optimism viewpoint.

Tomorrow is loading day. As in “there is no way all this stuff is going to fit into that truck and what are we going to store and why didn’t we throw a lot of this away ages ago and no we’re not taking that box we’ve carted all over the country and yet to open …”

And so forth.

Tomorrow. Ah, I pick up the Uhaul monster. One I have become quite fond of actually. Adventure. The Open Road. Wind in our face. Did I mention adventure?

Yes.  Anyway, tomorrow is loading day. This day is not to be confused with “packing day.” Which is not a day; but rather a several week process of constant discussions with the Little Black Dress about stuff.  

I’ve spent my time with paper and pencil, calculator and pieces of string determining how I will fit said stuff in said truck. There are two options: the first is utilizing angles of reflection and refraction, coupled with a little astrophysics; the other is brute cramming force.

The Dress has assured me that whatever doesn’t fit in said 26-foot truck she will just put in the Suburban. Current calculations have said Suburban needing to be roughly 53 feet long.

Mmmhhh.
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Not only will yours truly be driving the 26-foot monster, I will also be towing one of our cars. This is primarily because none of the Sons of Thunder are near close enough in age to drive. Not that I haven’t thought about it anyway. You know, that whole adventure thing.  And we will be utilizing an auto transporter, not some mere trailer. As least that’s what they call it.

The original plan was to have everything – and I mean everything – packed up days ago. This was so we could “rest” before said adventure actually commenced. This plan has not played out according to my desires. This is best exemplified by the fact I currently am typing this on top of three boxes, resting my feet on two other boxes. Whether the six-box high stack behind me will fall has yet to be determined.

And of course we are taping boxes, filling boxes and stacking said boxes as I write.  Not the plan. Not the plan at all. Something about life and distractions getting in the way.

Just keep reminding me it’s an adventure.

And so we head off from Oklahoma to Georgia, and back to our old home even. We leave behind new friends, but will catch up with old ones.

We close a chapter. We open a new one.

It’s called “life.”