Last week I went to London and spent a few days in my house. I haven’t been there for nearly 9 years.
It felt VERY ODD and I didn’t like it. In fact, it felt so strange and sad that I decided to leave town a day early and get back home where the lovely task of packing up our entire household awaited me because we are moving back to Stepford on Monday.
So that would be one week from touchdown to moving truck.
During this week of mad packing, Husband and I will be popping over to Oakland to Ikea in order to purchase our new kitchen. The cupboards anyway. The doors have been custom made and are being sent to Stepford separately where they will be painted by some nice men who we don’t really know but have heard are quite good (gulp) and as we speak our builder is ripping the floor and current cupboards out of our house. We’ll stay in an hotel for a couple of days when we first get there , storing our stuff in the garage, and then I will take the kids to my father’s house in Washington DC and leave Husband to grapple with the remaining chaos.
I think this means that when we come back two weeks later it will still look like a building site and nothing will have been finished and none of our furniture unpacked, but I am going to accept that fact in advance and try not to get too stressed in advance. I shall instead go mental at the appropriate time.
I’m already exhausted, on the edge of my nerves, frayed and frazzled and beginning to recognise I have bitten off FAR more than I can reasonably chew, but now it’s all set in motion, there’s no stopping until we’re done.