The final chapter of my moving adventure. Because getting there was only half the battle.
3 a.m.
That's what time we finally arrived in Tennessee.
After the packing, the moving truck disaster, the poison pizza, the freezing cold, the Buc-ee's emergency wardrobe purchase, and what felt like 47 years on the road, we had finally made it.
And what did we do to celebrate?
Went straight to bed.
Not exactly the grand entrance I had imagined.
But we were exhausted, and unfortunately, the moving adventure wasn't over.
Not even close.
One Truck. Three Destinations. Zero Organization.
We had approximately 24 hours to divide everything in that moving truck into three categories.
Category 1: Things staying with me while I live with my daughter in Tennessee.
Category 2: Things going to Michigan with Jocelyn.
Category 3: Everything else going into storage until I figure out where I'm going to live.
Sounds simple enough, right?
Well, remember those instructions I gave the movers about how to load the truck?
Yeah.
Those apparently went directly into the imaginary suggestion box.
Because when we opened that truck, everything was a jumbled mess.
Things that needed to go to Michigan were mixed with things going into storage. Things I needed immediately were buried somewhere in the great cardboard abyss.
And we didn't have the luxury of spending three days sorting through everything.
We had movers meeting us at the storage facility the next day.
Meanwhile, my daughter had rented another vehicle to drive to Michigan, and we were trying to fill that with everything she needed to take.
So there we were.
Sleep-deprived, surrounded by boxes, trying to figure out which belongings belonged in which state.
At this point, I'm beginning to think moving should qualify as an Olympic sport.
The Only One Who Had His Life Together Was Remmie
Of course, there was one member of this family who wasn't suffering.
Remmie.
Because while I might have forgotten to leave myself blankets, pillows, and appropriate clothing during this adventure, I made absolutely sure that Remmie's bed and toys were easy to find.
Priorities.
His human-sized dog bed has been an absolute lifesaver throughout this entire move.
He had his comfortable place to sleep, his toys, and his people.
Meanwhile, I was trying to remember which box contained my actual life.
Honestly, I think Remmie handled this move better than any of us.
And I'm fairly certain he thinks we moved to Tennessee specifically for him.
Which, if I'm being completely truthful, isn't entirely wrong.
Surprise! Your Storage Unit Is Too Small.
The next day, I finally arrived at the storage facility.
I had already rented my unit.
I had planned everything.
I was ready.
And then I discovered that the storage unit was too small.
OF COURSE IT WAS.
Because why would anything go according to plan at this point?
So I had to upgrade to a larger unit.
More money.
More logistics.
More opportunities to question every decision I've made over the last three months.
Thankfully, the new movers were fantastic.
They unloaded the truck while Ishmael helped me organize everything inside the storage unit.
And somehow, we managed to fit my life into what is essentially a very expensive closet.
A closet I now have to pay for every month.
Wonderful.
Bob Has Officially Taken Over Security.
You'll be happy to know that Bob, my boxing dummy, survived the trip.
Not only did he survive, but he's now standing guard over everything in storage.
Wearing his crown.
Because of course he is.
If anyone opens that storage unit, they're going to be greeted by a crowned boxing dummy surrounded by boxes, furniture, and what I can only describe as the remains of my former life.
I feel like that's a pretty effective security system.
And then there are the wine glasses.
Remember all those boxes of wine glasses I so carefully packed?
Well, from the outside, they appear to have survived.
But we won't know for sure until I eventually find my own place and start unpacking.
So for now, I'm choosing optimism.
If I open those boxes and discover 47 pounds of broken glass, that's a problem for Future Me.
Current Me has had enough.
And Then Something Strange Happened.
After all the chaos, something happened that I wasn't expecting.
I started feeling something I hadn't felt in a very long time.
Relief.
Not the kind of relief you feel when you finally finish a difficult project.
Something bigger.
Like I had been holding my breath for years and finally remembered how to exhale.
And then came the excitement.
Every single day since arriving in Tennessee, I've felt it.
I wake up excited about what comes next.
I don't have all the answers.
I don't have a new job yet.
I don't have my own home yet.
Most of my belongings are sitting in storage under the watchful eye of a crowned boxing dummy.
And I still have absolutely no idea what my next career is going to look like.
But I'm happy.
And that's a pretty incredible feeling.
Maybe This Is What Starting Over Looks Like.
I've been exploring my new surroundings.
Beautiful blue skies.
Sunsets that make me stop whatever I'm doing just to take a picture.
A place where I can sit outside, look around, and think about all the possibilities ahead of me.
For so long, my life revolved around work, responsibilities, stress, and making sure everyone else was okay.
I spent years chasing the promotions, the money, and the version of success I thought I was supposed to want.
And then, at 52 years old, I walked away from it.
I packed up my life.
Moved hundreds of miles away.
And started over.
Was it terrifying?
Absolutely.
Was it expensive?
Don't even ask.
Was it a complete disaster at times?
You have read the previous three chapters, right?
But would I do it again?
Yes.
Even knowing everything I know now.
Even with the moving disasters.
Even with the poison pizza.
Even with the storage unit upgrade.
Even with the possibility that my wine glasses are now a collection of expensive shards.
I'd do it again.
Because for the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm building a life that belongs to me.
Not my employer.
Not everyone else's expectations.
Mine.
And Remmie's, obviously.
He has opinions.
So, What the Hell Do I Do Now?
That's the million-dollar question.
I need to find a job.
Eventually, I want to buy a home.
I want to explore Tennessee, meet people, try new things, and figure out what makes me happy.
And I've started working on a few ideas that I never would have imagined myself trying a year ago.
Including one that involves going into business with my dog.
Yes.
You read that correctly.
But that's a story for my next blog.
For now, I'm going to enjoy being here.
I'm going to enjoy these beautiful sunsets.
I'm going to appreciate the fact that I was brave enough to make this change.
And I'm going to stop worrying quite so much about having everything figured out.
I spent months asking myself:
What the hell am I doing?
Turns out, I might have known exactly what I was doing all along.
And that feels pretty damn good.
Welcome to Tennessee, Remmie.
Here's to new beginnings, beautiful sunsets, and hoping my wine glasses survived better than my bank account.
I think we're going to like it here.