It’s the perfect summer night. I’m sitting in the grass outside the hotel. The problem is that the hotel is in Worcester. Yes, we are still in Worcester. Our moving company has dropped the ball. They were supposed to pick up our stuff yesterday morning. But we’re still waiting. First the truck broke down that was supposed to move us. And then because they couldn’t fix it, they offloaded our job to a different company. We’re not their problem anymore. I just got off the phone with the company that they’ve outsourced our move to and they will not be able to get to our house until Sunday afternoon. We’re getting uncomfortably close to our closing date and the time when we have to be out of our house.
I’m not that upset considering. I decided to choose a path of acceptance vs. frustration and anger. I can spend a lot of energy rehashing how poorly things have gone. I can yell at the moving company. I can yell at the new moving company. I could be angry and make sure everyone around me feel that anger too. But it’s out of my control so where does it get me? And what message will I be sending my kids? That moving sucks. And it is a horrible horrible pain in the ass infuriating bull shit thing. Or I could just let it all wash over me. Day 1 I was letting it wash over me. Day Two I’m starting to lose resolve. I’m starting to lose my grip on acceptance. It’s hard not being in control. It’s hard waiting three months for the big day and then, nothing.
We are moving. We will move. It will happen. But oh how I wish that I didn’t have to wait anymore. If the truck doesn’t come tomorrow, I don’t know what we will do. It is a great big unknown. It’s really hard to sit with. Two margaritas at dinner took the edge off. How many days can we wake up thinking this is the day? Put on our best smiling attitudes and continue to have it not work out? Swim at the hotel pool? Eat almond butter out of the jar? Sit in a fully packed house and try to keep the boys from killing each other? There are worse things. The other day Kevin called saying he had some bad news and I though he was going to day that he lost his job in Philly. It turns out he ordered a new bathing suit and accidentally shipped it to our new address before the lease started. That I can handle. That seems manageable. Another day of waiting, not so much. And yet, we’re together. We have a place to sleep. The sun will come out tomorrow…and hopefully the f’ing truck will show up.
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