According to Pandora, I am presently comforted by neo-romantic compositional styles, symphony orchestras, harp playing, french horn, bittersweet sentiments, tranquil moods, new age aesthetics, the subtle use of paired vocal harmonies, celtic roots, and singing, mellifluous aesthetics. I am also comforted by knowing that there's something I can add to my environment to bring comfort; otherwise I'm afraid the stress of this move would finally do me in.
We've finally claimed a moving date. It's not our best choice, and was provided by default rather than through any actual work on behalf of anyone other than us, but it's a date and deadline: June 1, 2011. There are lots of things about it that I don't like: it's a Wednesday, which means that Corrin has a class to teach at 6pm that evening, and it's difficult for out of town family to help us on the day. It's just far enough after Memorial Day weekend to be incredibly inconvenient for finalizing the packing and cleaning of present spaces, since I have three new staff people starting at work on the 31st and can't exactly take a day off. It's close enough to June 3rd that I have to miss participating in my designated Relay For Life event (Green Island, NY) for the first time since 2003 (or come back to town to a pair of cats utterly traumatized at having been moved and then abandoned, and a home in complete disarray.) There are many things about it that could be better.
BUT. It is what it is -- a day and a deadline. My fantastic Uncle Bob may be able to come to town with his expert moving skills to corral all of our possessions from two homes into one. If he can't -- because Wednesday is a *really* crappy day for a move -- I will rent a truck, learn to drive in Manhattan, and put out a call for strong, burly types to help lift mattresses and box springs and a pair of heavy dressers in and out of said truck in exchange for a batch of my variation on Deb's brownies -- delivered the following weekend, after I've rescued the baking pans and pastry flour and Icelandic chocolate from the packing crates.
The best news is that, in having a date, I can begin to act. Time to spend hours on the phone with utility companies moving services and setting up joint accounts. Time to decide if we really want a sofa, reconstruct Corrin's awesome-but-less-than-pretty futon into a piece of grown-up furniture, cull more of my books, decide if we'll really have an ice cream party for fifty of our friends in July (and if not, give away some bowls and spoons), and figure out how to ship my unused-for-a-year television from Brooklyn to my Nana in Saratoga. Time to switch in the spring wardrobes, so we can lug boxes around in shorts and t-shirts instead of corduroys and wool cardigans.
And some where in all of that I have to hire three people and launch a new project at work, arrange contra participation in The Dance Parade (with an infuriatingly disorganized group of parade organizers), and keep the broker who's showing my current space from allowing my cats to escape into the wilds of Fort Greene. Woe to those who cross my path attempting to make my life more difficult this month!
But joy and delight and a pending sigh of relief for the impending month of lilies that is nearly upon us.
First published at expetesso.com