In hindsight, it was denial. Complete and total denial.
At first glance, it seemed that I was so calm, so together, so well-paced. People would say, "Oh my gosh...are you all packed? Are you ready to go?" I would nod, confidently, and say that I was JUST ABOUT THERE. I truly believed myself when I said, “It’ll all come together in the last day or so. It always does."
Wrong, wrong, wrongity wrong!
It WOULD have come together in the last days IF I were moving to another house in Portland.
Hell, it would have come together if I were moving across the country again, back to St. Louis, or even further east. It did NOT come together, though, because this was the first time I was moving to THE OTHER SIDE OF THE F-ING WORLD. Okay, maybe not entirely the OTHER side, but nearly 7,000 miles, I think.
I relied on the "last time" I moved...that was my frame of reference. Truth be told, there wasn't a "last time" to rely on. It was a whole new ballgame and I arrived during the last inning. Seriously, I didn't realize that I was in over my head until it was too late.
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