Saturday, July 28, 2007

Rambling musings from someone who really ought to be in bed

It’s two days til the big move. Or, one day, I guess, since I’m up so late it’s no longer Friday. I’ve had a hectic time of it. That little head cold I mentioned in the story of the snot rope actually blossomed into bronchitis. Oh joy. Stirring up dust and dog hair as we pack every nook and cranny, hacking up chest coughs into snotty Kleenexes all the while.

I haven’t been working very hard, though. To Matthew’s infinite credit, he’s taken up the slack where I’ve been too sick or too lazy to really step up to the plate like I should. Matthew totally earns MVP for this move, and he deserves a big fat trophy for it. To MY credit, I’ve only told Matthew that I’m dying a couple of times, versus when I normally get sick and I tell him several times an hour that I’m dying. Yeah, I’m that mature. I recognize that bitching about my mucus doesn’t actually endear me to the guy who’s packing my eight millionty books.

We’ve said most of our goodbyes to Chicago, the goodbyes we had time for at least. We didn’t make it back to the zoo where we got married, even though we intended to. We didn’t make it to the other zoo either. As usual, we didn’t take advantage of the thousands of Chicago festivals: music, food, ethnic, movie, or otherwise. We even missed Taste of Romania, which is a shame, for real. Oh, and Taste of Chicago. We missed that too. It was hot, who wanted to be outside? I didn’t.

And yet, all this heat has been just Florida’s waiting room. I had felt winter before I moved to Chicago, so even though Chicago’s winter is longer, harder, and stronger than any I’d ever experienced, it was something I was at least sort of prepared for. Florida summer? Haven’t got a clue. The locals say it’s not that bad in the same sentence that they tell us we need to start unloading our moving truck by 7 am in order to avoid the heat. I’m afraid of how relative their “not bad” really is. I’ll probably be wishing my eyeballs would melt out Indiana Jones style and just get the torture over with.

We’re both optimistic though. As nervous as we both are about changes in our lives and adjustments we’ll be making, we’re both very hopeful for our future in Florida. Heck, it’d be nice if we could both have careers at the same time. I know that’s a lot to ask the employment gods, but come on and smile on us already, OK?

Love,
Christine Wy

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

As stressful as doing this move has been, we've managed to only fight a little bit. I'm pretty happy we are such a great team.

I'm also so tired I'm having trouble seeing straight and we still have hours to go before bed. Then up too early to get the truck. Then we have over 17 hours of driving to look forward to once we actually get the truck loaded.

Followed by unloading the truck, a lot of which will be done by myself.

meinemo said...

A lot of optimism and even a bit of naivete goes a long way in a big move like this. Sounds like you both are chock half-full? Anyway, good luck with the moving, Matthew, and have fun setting up shop in your new home. Love, Monya