Here we go again.
In 2006, we moved to Los Angeles. In 2009, we moved to Kentucky. Now it's 2013 and it's California's turn.
|I look like shit, but you know what, I was about to explode into tears so that's life.|
All this cross country back and forth has made me an expert packer. I've devised the perfect system for packing and labeling the boxes as well as a schedule that allows for getting packed up without leaving yourself without the necessities. Factor in Mack's brute strength and the fact that our house is furnished by cleverly compact Ikea creations, and we can move anywhere with less than 3 days notice.
This time, I told Mack I refused to touch the piano or drive non-stop, and lucky for me, he relented. It only took however many years we've been married and three cross country trips to get through to him.
The trip was pretty typical. Boring on top of boring on top of eating to pass the time on top of boring. Luckily Leigh had sent us off with a bag of popcorn the size of my torso and my mom had made a batch of No Worries muffins for us to nosh along the way. Homer willingly wedged himself between me and the door during my drive shift and propped up my arm, so that was exciting.
|These things are amazing. Chock full of love and power and nutrition. We became addicts on our last ride across the country.|
|Homer. Bought him for $36 when I was 8. I was so little that my arms hurt from carrying him around the store. All I need is Homer and my silky. That's all I need.|
We stopped a million places to get gas but the only one I remember was Shamrock, TX. There was a little bar right of the exit so we grabbed a beer and then headed into "town" for dinner. Big Vern's Steakhouse. Just the place for two vegetarians. All I can say is thank god for St. Patrick's Day or else Shamrock would have no purpose.
We left Kentucky on a Monday and made it to LA late Wednesday night/Thursday morning. We had planned to sleep outside of LA on Wednesday night but as we got closer the finish line, the boring took over our brains. We were tired and had been confined in a moving truck for 14 hours already, but we were too close to quit. And coming into LA with a moving truck towing a car is way better at 2am when there aren't any cars on the road.
Well, any cars except the two that collided in front of us on the interstate and were sent into about six spirals. We were far enough behind them that we were able to stop in time, but then we remembered that people were still going 75 mph behind us. Aside from the spinning around, the wreck wasn't that bad, so we excused ourselves from our medical obligations and got a move on.
I was spent before the wreck, stressed out by being in the car 17 hours and tired beyond tired, but seeing that happen made me start grinding my teeth and turning into an emotional wad of unpredictability. We ditched the Penske truck at the rental place, along with the car carrier (they kindly agreed to let us park it there overnight so we didn't have to find a place to park it), and drove to our new apartment. Tom greeted us with blankets and toilet paper and water. It was 4am PST / 7am EST by the time we laid down to go to sleep.
And then I burst into tears. I wasn't really sad as much as I was overwhelmed. I felt like my emotions had been twisted up like a wet towel and then whipped open with a snap. I was... unsure, and it was so unnecessary that when I got up to pee, I even said to Mack, who felt like it was all his fault that I was so upset, "I just need to stop it, just knock it off."
The next day Tom, an angel in a father-in-law outfit, came over and helped us unload the truck. He almost died trying to lift the couch over the balcony rail. We got everything unloaded and unpacked in just a few hours and then walked the 6 blocks to the beach, put our feet in the sand, and let certainty settle over us.
And then I got my period.