Hvordan sier man "cut and foil?"

I would like to say that I am a calm person.  Laid back.  Not easily riled.

I would LIKE to say those things, but sadly I cannot for they are not true.

It may come as a shock to many or none to find out that I am not an easy going person.  Much of it may be covered by the fact that I appear shy or reserved at times, but make no mistake.  I obsess, I worry and I speculate every minute of the day.

Surprisingly, this does not translate into OCD.  Not at all.  Just as my mother.  I am not given to over cleanliness or bouts of organization.

All of this leads into the state of affairs at the moment for me.  After months (and months) of waiting, my house sale appears to be finally imminent.  It is literally scheduled and ready to happen on the 29th of this month.  As in two weeks from today.

With all the time I have had to prepare, you would think that I would have been ready to go at any second.  But all this time sort of made me forget about just how much I would have to do for the end game.

I have owned a house for over eight years.  Translation:  I have over eight years of crap accumulated in my house.  True, I am only one person and the space was somewhat limited.  But still, it is a lot of crap.

My first indication to this effect came last summer as we cleaned my house in preparation for listing.  Thank goodness my parents were willing to help me sort out and de-clutter or who knows how long it would have taken me to put the house on the market.  While we were successfully able to make the house appear clean and sparsely inhabited, we merely postponed the flood.

I knew it all along.  Really, I did.  But with the house staged for showing, there was not much I could do without making a total mess of it all.  So I waited.  Like Sauron, I bided my time until all the evil in my house would rise again and overrun the world.

On January 2, I received the word that the sale was approved and I knew it was time for action.  Many ideas and suggestions came about, but in the end I opted to rent a short term storage facility and throw the majority of my belongings inside.  The major obstacle to this was in the simple act of moving said belongings.

I may not be the wimpiest person alive, but I am certainly not capable of lifting and moving a ten foot couch or a queen sized mattress.  Neither are my parents, at least not individually.  Thankfully, I have a brother who has yet to turn 30 and decay into middle age like myself.  And again thankfully, he was willing to help.

So last weekend, after two weekends in a row in which I packed like a madwoman, my family drove up to the house and did the BIG move.  I took care of the details, like the storage unit rental and reserving the U-Haul.  There were some unexpected bumps along the way.  The truck which I had hoped to have ready for use at 8 a.m. on Saturday was not to be ready until noon.  Said same truck was also initially frozen shut at the pickup location.  Thank goodness for my dad and a metal file.

In a moment of rare foresight, I did manage to find a storage facility with an indoor heated loading dock which was a complete lifesaver.  Truly.  I think someone might have keeled over in exhaustion if we had to unload the entire 20 foot truck in the freezing cold after dark.

I am proud to say that we pulled it off and now there are only a few scant items remaining in my house.  With two weekends left to clear out, I am confident that I will be fully moved by the 29th and ready to hand over the keys.

With all that has been accomplished, one would think that I could relax.  Alas, no.  But I have come to accept this state of being for now.  It started up about a year ago and will only be really gone when all the paperwork is signed and I am no longer responsible for a mortgage.  If it seems a bit backwards to be this excited about not owning a house, it is.  But I have to take what I can get when it comes to clearing off my worry plate these days.

So for the next two weeks, keep your fingers crossed.  If all goes to plan, I intend to celebrate by getting my hair cut and colored before I start to look like a giant pile of grey split ends.