Oh Shit, I'm Really Moving to Tennessee
Who would have thought?
Certainly not me.
But here I am.
The truck is rented.
The helpers are booked.
The storage unit is rented.
I have multiple interviews lined up for remote jobs.
And I have three weekends left.
Oh shit. I'm really moving to Tennessee.
This isn't just an idea anymore.
It's actually happening.
Maybe This Might Actually Work
Somehow, by what feels like a small miracle, I have set up multiple interviews for remote jobs.
And I am very excited about this.
The thought of working from home, having more time with Remmie, and maybe—just maybe—finding a little more of that thing I've been trying to figure out called work-life balance makes me really hopeful.
I don't know if any of these interviews will turn into a job.
But I'm allowing myself to be excited about the possibility.
Because after everything I've been thinking about and changing, it feels good to finally see something moving in the right direction.
Maybe this might actually work.
The Moving Part Is Becoming Very Real
I've rented the moving truck.
And I hired helpers to load it.
Because there is absolutely no way I could load an entire moving truck myself.
Even with my daughters helping.
Could we do it?
Probably.
Would it take forever?
Absolutely.
So I'm accepting that sometimes you just need to have help.
And I'm okay with that.
I also rented a storage space because I have no idea where all of my stuff is going to end up.
Apartment?
House?
Something I haven't even thought of yet?
Tent?
Who knows.
For now, I just need somewhere to put everything while I figure out the next part.
Apparently, I Didn't Pack Correctly the First Time
This might be the most ridiculous part.
I had already packed some things.
Then I decided I wasn't organized enough.
So I unpacked everything...
and packed it again.
Yes.
I know.
Insane.
But this time I have nice labels.
I know what's in the boxes.
I know where things are supposed to go.
Well...
mostly.
There are also boxes marked:
MYSTERY BOX
Because apparently there are some things that I couldn't figure out where to put, so I decided Future Cyndee can deal with them.
I'm sure she'll appreciate that.
And then there are my four boxes marked FRAGILE — WINE GLASSES.
Four boxes.
Of wine glasses.
Apparently, I have been preparing for a very large wine-drinking population that I was completely unaware of.
At least those aren't mystery boxes.
I know exactly what's in them.
A Note to My Future Self
If you buy furniture that you have to put together yourself...
KEEP THE INSTRUCTIONS AND THE TOOLS.
Seriously.
Keep them.
I've taken apart almost everything.
I've put all the little bags of screws and hardware into containers and labeled exactly which piece of furniture they belong to.
Look at me.
Organized.
Responsible.
Thinking ahead.
There is just one problem.
Will I remember how to put everything back together?
I have no instructions,
But honestly, I usually never look at them until I am almost done and realize I have to take it all apart and do it again.
I'm pretty sure there is going to be a future version of me sitting on the floor surrounded by furniture pieces, staring at a bag of screws and wondering what the hell I was thinking.
But at least I'll know which furniture the screws belong to and wine to help me through it.
That's something.
Three Weekends
That's what I have left.
Three weekends to get everything done.
And somehow, instead of completely panicking, I'm starting to feel accomplished.
The truck is rented.
The helpers are arranged.
The storage unit is ready.
The boxes are getting packed.
The furniture is taken apart.
The hardware is labeled.
The mystery boxes are mysterious.
The wine glasses have their own four-box section of my life.
And I have interviews lined up for jobs that could potentially give me more time at home and maybe a better balance in my life.
For once, I can actually see things coming together.
Not perfectly.
Not according to some carefully planned master plan.
But they're coming together.
Maybe the Storage Unit Is Part of the Experiment
It is going to be weird putting so much of my life into storage.
There is something strange about taking the things that have filled your home and putting them into a little storage unit where you won't see them every day.
But maybe that's not necessarily a bad thing.
One of the things I'm trying to learn through all of this is how to live with less stuff.
I've spent a lot of my life accumulating things.
Things I thought I needed.
Things I might need someday.
Things I completely forgot I owned.
So maybe the storage unit will be a trial run.
If I can live without something while it's sitting in storage, maybe I don't really need it.
Maybe I'll discover that I can live with a lot less than I thought I could.
And maybe that's part of starting over too.
Not just moving to a new place.
Not just finding a new job.
But figuring out what I actually want to take with me.
I'm Still Figuring It Out
I still don't know exactly where I'm going to live.
Who the hell knows.
Apparently, I'm moving to Tennessee before I figure that part out.
And you know what?
For once, I'm not going to let not knowing stop me.
I spent a lot of my life thinking I needed to have everything figured out before I could make a move.
The right job.
The right amount of money.
The right plan.
The right timing.
Maybe that's why I stayed in situations longer than I should have.
This time, I'm doing it differently.
I'm going.
I'll figure out the rest when I get there.
Maybe I'll find the perfect apartment.
Maybe I'll find a little house.
Maybe I'll live somewhere I never imagined.
Maybe I'll end up sitting in a storage unit surrounded by four boxes of wine glasses and a bunch of furniture parts wondering how I got here.
Honestly, any of those things are possible.
And somehow, that's okay.
Because this isn't about having all the answers.
It's about finally being willing to find out what's on the other side of the decision.
So here I am.
52 years old.
Packing up my life.
Moving to Tennessee.
Looking for a new job.
Trying to live with less.
Trying to figure out what actually makes me happy.
And maybe that's enough of a plan for now.
I'm going.
The rest?
I'll figure it out.