Adventures in Moving: Preparing for Battle

obscene.gestureSometime in the near future, my husband and I will be moving to California. He was hired by Apple, and we found out a couple of weeks ago that his visa application was approved. We have to go in for a visa interview, but I don't foresee any problems with that.

I'm not going to lie. My husband and I are fucking messy. We both work from home, we both tend to get ultra focused on our work, and fucking frankly, we're two of the laziest motherfuckers you've ever met when it comes to things like chores. We work hard and we play hard, and cleaning doesn't fall into the equation like it should.

So, in order to move, we have to pretty much change all of our bad habits, take our damned pack rat tendencies, and alter our general lifestyle quite a bit.

Fuckityfuckfuckfuck.

Nope, I'm so not ready for this. If the lawyers are correct in their estimate, we have a maximum of three months before we'll be in California. In that time, we have to do the following:

  • Clean the house
  • Restore the basement
  • Fix the faucets. All of them.
  • Replace the molding in the bathrooms.
  • Fix the banister.
  • Fix the upstairs electricity circuit.
  • Repair the pool. (a pipe burst at the end of the season.)
  • Sell the house.
  • Clean.
  • Clean.
  • Clean.

I fucking hate cleaning. I'd rather rip my toenails out. Sure, I get a thrill out of turning chaos to order, which makes cleaning a little bit rewarded, but…

Okay, not going to lie here. I have a serious pack rat problem. Actually, no. I'm a goddamned fucking dragon. I'm awesome, and my horde of treasures shall not be taken from me!

Reality: I, of my own free will, pruned my extensive beer glass collection down to five glasses I really liked. The entirety of my whiskey bottle collection is being thrown out. I am actually giving away limited numbers of my journals to a few friends who deserve/need them. LIMITED NUMBERS. I'm not crazy, okay? This dragon isn't doing a whole lot of pruning of the journal collection. You can just suck it if you don't like it.

My entire port collection (over 20-30 bottles, some of them rare) is being given away; the movers don't like moving alcohol. This is actually pretty painful for me, because I've been collecting some of these bottles for years. I enjoy a glass of port every couple of weeks, and I like a variety.

I'll begin my collection again in California. I will be drinking the ports I really like best, or the really expensive bottles, though. This dragon can't have all the joy of life sucked away, okay?

The xbox and our game collection is also going; the xbox broke recently, and replacing it isn't currently an option. We may keep the games in case the husband wants to get another xbox. Uncertain. We'll see. It's something we'll discuss. We may keep the games because I've already packed them into a box.

My first task is to go through my kitchen. Unfortunately, thanks to my dragon-like tendencies to horde things and buy shiny objects, my kitchen is a disaster area of excess. The beer glasses are only one manifestation of this excess.

The less shit I own means the more books I can take, right?

My husband wanted me to get rid of my book collection. I told him over my dead body. We have compromised. By compromise, I actually I actually mean: there is no fucking way I'm getting rid of my fucking book collection.

He has learned some battles can't be won, and that is one of them.

So, today, I battle my kitchen.

Tomorrow, I take over the world. Be ready.

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