What the....

I have always been a do it yourself kinda girl. I have never, EVER had someone else pack for me. Well, other than Matt when I lost my job and had to move to a hundred year old house in the hood because I was broke. That time was different, I was having a hard time. I was VERY upset and didn't want to move. But I have never, EVER had strangers pack for me. I just found out that his company is paying for our entire move, which is GREAT! FABULOUS!

But.... they will only move what the movers pack for stupid liability reasons.

See I had a whole fantasy in my head, as usual. I went like this...

I love packing and moving! It means a new place and a chance to do some serious feng shui space clearing and really seeing what all I'm storing and not using. I was looking forward to the next couple weeks sorting and organizing of all my stuff. I had a plan, a written plan! I have been working on this plan for a couple weeks during my lunch breaks.

As I sorted our belongings I was going to pack my boxes with color coded labels with a full inventory list stored safely on my handy flash drive. I already have the spreadsheet set up via 'area' and box numbers.

The movers were going to show up precisely at 8:30 am on Friday, December 13th while Matt was taking his LAST final. They were going to be so thankful that all my boxes were ready to go. They were going to wrap and move the heavier, bulkier items. I was going to be happy about that. I was going to sit on the front porch sipping hot cocoa (its fantasies like this that I wish I drank coffee). I was going to make banana bread the night before to offer to the hulky, smiling men in my fantasy.

Hmph.

Instead apparently, I am expected to NOT pack, NOT organize nor color code anything. I'm supposed to just let precious organizing and sorting days pass by while I wait for strange men to come into my house on December 13th and randomly wrap (apparently movers are obsessed with unprinted newspaper I'm told) EVERYTHING and put it all into their own boxes. I'm supposed to sit back and "relax" while they empty my kitchen cabinets, closets and drawers. I bet they are day labor guys that get picked up that morning on the street corner next to the Citgo. They are going to smell and have dirty hands. I bet ya they will!

What am I going to do paint my nails and watch the polish dry? And how, HOW I ask you am I going to know where everything is? What box will have what? How am I going to sit and watch this happen?! How are these 'people' - these 'movers' going to know what kitchen stuff should be packed with what?! What am I going to do with all MY boxes that I've moved with three times?? I have carefully stored and preserved these boxes just for this move! Now what I am to just throw them away?!

I am trying to stay calm. I am realizing that moving brings out my control issues. I realize this must be a challenge from the universe...I mean an 'opportunity' to deal with this issue. Honestly I don't think I need to deal with it, I like being in control. Especially of my stuff. Why is that an issue?

I tried to break up with Matt. I told him to just leave me and my stuff here as I can't go through this. He can go and take the dogs and live a wonderful life without me. I will have his stuff ready in the middle of the floor for the movers to "pack". I'll just have to stay behind in Atlanta.

That didn't work.

He kinda yelled at me for the first time ever. He said I was being "F-ing Ridiculous!"

Hmph.

I told him I guess I'll just have to start drinking. Heavily.