You know, despite my bitching, the wedding was the easiest part of the last 4 months. It really, really was. I had forgotten what an absolute bitch it is move, but thankfully life swooped in and reminded me! Moving is a fucking BITCH.
I’ve accumulated a lot in that apartment in 5 years and despite having thrown out a LOT and putting stuff into storage, it still feels never ending. This weekend I get to go back and clean and pack up the kitchen. It seemed pointless to pack it at the time because I had no time left. Now I almost wished I’d pushed myself to hospital level illness to get it done. Although if I’d done that, I wouldn’t have made it to the wedding. Instead, I just have this lingering cough.
Okay so not really – even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t have pushed myself any harder. It was hard enough trying to pack with a fever and then the damn kidney infection just flat out took me out. I couldn’t even move it hurt so bad. When I thought I was getting better, strep throat took me down another peg. Fun times!
But in the end it was worth it. I’m unbelievably glad we moved before the wedding. If I had to come back from the wedding and mini honeymoon to the reality of packing and moving, I think I’d just call it a day and never leave the apartment. Instead I have a fresh new nest to build up with my fresh new husband. I have a family to help out and a house to help change in exchange for their generosity in letting us move in and save hundreds and hundreds of dollars a month.
So now here I am, 1 week post official marriage, unpacking every night, making the basement my new home, trying to adjust my entire life around living with 3 other people, learning how to be a wife, and wondering how the fuck I even made it through the last month. I’m preparing myself for the next month of hell, but keeping a positive attitude. It’s easier than you’d think. The perk of living in the basement is that it’s dark and silent and I’ve slept better in the last week than I have in the last 5 years. I feel completely different. All of the medications are completely out of my system too since I stopped taking those and I feel better. I’m also not sick anymore so that also helps.
By moving early, I gave myself a full month to clean and make that apartment shiny and spotless for the move out inspection. I already know I’m in for a world of hurt when they pull out the carpet in the living room (the dog’s favorite place to pee in the middle of the night) and the office (we found out the hard way that the litter box was leaking) so I’m preparing for that kind of cost. Then there are the broken blinds from my precious cats in their kitten days. There’s also a door frame that was chewed to oblivion by Chet’s dog on a particularly bad day that my cats ended up using as a scratching post later. (Why they like wood so much is beyond me, but it’s their favorite thing. At least it isn’t the couch anymore.) Oh, and all the corners of carpet those kittens destroyed early on trying to tunnel their way to Narnia. I’m sure I could replace all this shit on my own for less money but part of me just doesn’t care anymore.
So there’s the final bits of packing up the kitchen and moving that into storage, packing up the non-perishable and frozen food I left behind and taking that home, cleaning the hell out of the apartment, and then deciding about repairs on my own or not giving a fuck. Meanwhile I work a full day, come home and unpack another section and/or clean a different part of the basement up, and try to adjust to a new life.
P.S. I will write about the wedding in its own entry because I think it deserves that special moment, not coupled with an angsty and exhausted post.