I’m nervous about this move. Not about moving in with my fiancée – I’m psyched about that part – but the actual logistics of moving is daunting. The logistics of packing your entire life into all these boxes: it’s nerve-wracking. I had always fantasized about living areas that are small spaces – Airstream trailers, Tiny Texas Houses, the little cottage – but in reality, living in a small space and consolidating your stuff into a small space is really, really tough. My fiancée has less of a problem with this than I do, because she currently lives in a small condominium and has had little storage room for a while now. But with the exception of the apartment I went home to for the first six months of my life, I’ve always lived in houses. With storage room. And basements. And attics. We’re looking at the apartment together for the first time this weekend (my dad and I were the first to see it, and the decision to lease was made prior to my fiancée having seen the apartment), and I’m just hoping that the things that didn’t stick out to me before – like, y’know, closet space – are ample enough for the two of us. Even with something as simple as packing boxes, I’m worried that I’m going to screw up – something wasn’t packed properly, I brought too much stuff, I’m not doing enough to lift/carry… I definitely broke out the passionflower tea to combat some of my anxiety, which wasn’t quite high enough to warrant a Klonopin. That being said, the stress of consolidating everything I own is still less than the stress of finding the apartment. I have phone-related anxiety, so even the act of picking up the phone to call prospective landlords was daunting. I found myself hoping against hope that the person on the other line wouldn’t pick up so I could leave a message, and I would purposefully not answer so that we communicated via phone tag. I’m not entirely sure what triggers that kind of anxiety, but it definitely puts a damper on certain tasks. Similarly, running out of packing tape put a damper on streamlining my existence (isn’t it sad that I equate my life with material goods?), which at the very least gave me a break from stressing out.
And so, onward and upward.