Where Do I Begin?

This week marks one month until I have to move out of my current house and into my new house. Up until now, I've been pretty un-stressed about it, but with the onset of this one month marker, the anxiety is ratcheting up.

While the contractor is almost done patching the cracks created by the leveling, the house still has gaps near the floorboards and along the chimney lines that need to be filled.  The interior needs to be painted.  The carpet needs to be replaced in the two back rooms.  A hot water heater and a stackable washer/dryer need to be purchased and installed (which means my current washer/dryer needs to be sold).  Fixtures need to be replaced.  This may not sound like much, but since work starts up again next week, that limits me to something like four weekends to get everything together, leaving the final weekend for moving in.  Yikes, yikes, yikes.

So, as my contractors get their final pieces done--so that I can get my final pieces done--I have been either under the new house, clearing out bricks/wood/rocks in anticipation of termite treatment, in Home Depot vacillating between paint chips, or inside my furnished house, trying to figure out how I'm ever going to fit all of my stuff into the new house.

Clearly some purging is in order, but I'm overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of things that exist in my house and belong to me.  And on top of that, there's always the question of where to begin packing so that I have what I need available, but also so that I don't wait until the last minute.

Which I would do because I hate packing.

Without fail, regardless of whether I'll be gone for two nights or two weeks, I will wait until the night before a trip to pack.  We're talking eight hours before take-off kind of last minute.  Yes, I do occasionally realize that I do not have that very important thing I need, for which I do not have time to shop (because it's midnight and all the shops are closed).  But most of the time, last-minute packing just means delaying the pain.  And as such, the cycle continues.  I'm tempted to do the same with my house.  But of course, packing for a two week trip and packing everything you own are two very different beasts.


Last night, after countless hours of Netflix finally began to bore me, I went through my normal self-entertainment option list to search for something new to give my attention to: I played piano, I read a little, I considered exercise, I thought about who might be available to hang out.  None of the above were good long-term options, though, so instead, I started making lists and brainstorming about my house.

As might be expected, the obsessive side of me came out in full force.  I became almost manic in my enthusiasm for the insane task of deciding how to set up my house.  Sure, it seems kind of normal to want to plan out your floor plan before you move in.  Responsible, even.  But I drew it to scale.  To scale.  I measured all the walls in my new house.  All the furniture in my current house.  And then I arranged all of my furniture on paper, so that each piece had a designated place in one of the new rooms.

No need to come to my housewarming.  I can give you a paper tour instead.

Then I moved on to paint colors.  I tried to create a 3D online replica of my living room (with obsessively placed furniture), but it proved to be cumbersome, and the paints didn't match what I'd seen at Home Depot.  So instead, I scoured paint pamphlets and online photos for the perfect paint color.  I made a list.  I checked it twice.

By 6pm today, I had bought and tried at least 8 different paints.  The choosing process started a little rough (read: intense colors), but eventually I figured out that neutrals were a better bet for my first house.  Also, beyond the fact that neutrals are more versatile, all of my furniture and artwork is meant for neutral walls.  So neutral it is.

The red might be too much, but I kind of like it.  Accent wall?

Nobody likes this color.  Except maybe me, and I'm still unsure.

My neutrals options.  The one on the left is a definite yes for the kitchen.

In the end, it's not obsession that's caused this weekend to be particularly house-centric.  It's necessity.  It's fear that it won't all get done in time.  It's an avoidance of house-work priority conflicts.  I'll already have a hard enough time coming off of Christmas break; no need to make it worse by spending my entire planning period calling electricians or taking days off to go downtown to apply for a Homestead Exemption.

So, with my seven days left of break, I plan on finishing the underside of my house (it will be cleaned and covered!), securing a plumber and electrician, starting the packing process, completing paperwork, and finishing the first season of The 100, the Netflix series I started yesterday.  Oh yeah, and spending a little bit of time with "Jack."  ...Who told his mom about me this week.  Her response: "Now I understand why you didn't tell me who you were dating."  My response to her response: Heightened insecurity and anxiety.  What does she mean by that?  (How could she not like me?  I'm every mom's dream!)  It doesn't help that I haven't seen "Jack" in almost a week because of the holidays and his work, either.  So until he's able to climb out of the nightmare that is his work schedule, I'll have to be content to bury myself in receipts-to-scan-and-shred, piles for Goodwill, and trash bags from under the house.  All to get the moving-in process closer to realization.  I'm unsure about it, but Ryan Gosling seems to have faith.