It's almost moving day, which means I can't procrastinate much longer

T-minus one week until moving day, and my nightmares started right on cue last night. I’m really not nervous or worried about moving, but I think that is largely in-part because I’m not really thinking about the “moving” aspect. I’m distracted with purchasing paint, working long hours, volunteer projects, and other pertinent things like re-writing the entire copy for our new website before tomorrow, and finishing up books so I can put them in a box… I know this will result in mush weeping and gnashing of teeth next week as I begin to curse my procrastinating tendencies, but for now I’m feeling fine. I know the dreams are a result of my nervous sub-conscious, and the nervous energy that is surrounding my family right now regarding my move. Perhaps I should be filled with more angst and stress and motivation… but I pack a few boxes every-day, and the rest will work itself out.

My dream consisted of me going to look at the new place one last time, only to find the floors covered in brown shag carpet, and a combination of dark wood paneling and orange and brown wall-paper on the walls… a north facing kitchen with no natural light, and a landlord who had managed to used the apartment as a storage facility… I remember feeling panicked because I knew it was too late to back out, and that my old apartment was no longer an option… naturally none of this is even close to real life. My new place has beautiful floors, stark white walls, tons of sunlight, and not an inch of clutter in sight (at least not yet).  I’m excited to pick up my new keys tomorrow night, and to promptly start painting on Tuesday (or maybe Wednesday).  I’m not excited to clean out my fridge, and sort the remaining items into boxes and suitcases, but this is what late-nights, coffee, and “the fear” is good for. I’m great under pressure, and have every confidence that in one week, on the eve of actual moving day, everything will be neatly stacked into boxes and piles, and my life will be in a little more order. It might take a miracle, a house-elf, and some last-minute swooping in from my parents, but I’m really hoping it won’t come to that.

I suppose I should go pack another box or two before bed… or at least work on my game-plan for tomorrow’s packing extravaganza… I hesitate to add to the chaos right now… the path to the bathroom is already littered with broken down boxes, half filled suitcases, a pile of recycling, dismembered bookshelves and half a bottle of wine...