With three boys, and a conscience as a father, it is rather difficult to get much done packing-wise. We put on some coffee, and expect to keep working until our limbs give out. The moving van and crew arrive tomorrow around 8:00 am. They're sending one packer to help finish up. It just seems that there is ever more to do. And the cleaning...
The car shippers still have not found a driver for our vehicles (though we said last Thursday was the earliest they could be picked up), meaning they'll likely remain here after we've gone, and we'll need to leave the keys with a neighbor, who'll serve as contact person for the shippers (should they ever deign to arrange a pickup).
The mortgage broker called today to ask that I send him over our February bank and brokerage statements. I had sent him the January statements a few weeks back, since February's were not yet available. Now!? They sure cut things close! I keep worrying something will fall through, and we'll be left homeless, with our household and vehicles in limbo.
Little things, right? But what are the big things?
It's easier to wipe the slate clean than to find the passion and inspiration to fill it once again. It takes far less time and energy to collapse a house of cards than to have built it in the first place; and proves perhaps even harder to regain the motivation to start anew.
But then, we've stripped ourselves bare, staring at the icy waters that taunt and provoke us to dive in. Is it better to stand naked on shore than to jump? Little choice this late in the game, eh? We'll shiver either way; might as well enjoy the plunge.
Now back to packing.