So I've started packing boxes and no we haven't bought a house yet. We've barely started looking, and the bank says it will be like two months from when we put in an offer to have the keys in hand, so we are not going anywhere anytime soon. But yes I am packing it up, my brain has moved on from this place. The things we own just sit there watching me as I pout around wishing that the perfect listing would come up any day now. The pressure is building in my head (especially with pinterest taunting me with cute home decor) that if I don't do something productive to keep my mind off the waiting that I will go crazy, like B.Spears crazy. It manifests in different ways, mostly me occasionally dropping to my knees in the kitchen and yelling "house!" before returning to cooking or whatever I was doing. Packing is a daunting, time consuming process, and since I'm (sad to say) over this place, I'm wrapping it up.
Its amazing how much stuff has accumulated here over the past 2 and a half years. We merged our stuff, got married, got a lot of presents, then picked up a newlywed, hand in hand strolling through the flea market hobby that has brought an influx of neat, often useless, pieces into our home.
I've starting packing up the chachkies since they just sit there, then it's onto the closets and cabinets. If it isn't used or adored regularly its going to be donated or packed. Then I will work my way through the garage, and hopefully by that point we will be in escrow somewhere. Then down will come the art off the walls and the rest of the house will follow suit.
At the current rate it takes me just to get one box done, starting this early will leave me just enough time to completly freak out and throw everything in random boxes two days before we have to leave. That's always how it goes for me, good intentions on the front end and massive disorganized panic at the back end.
The heat is unbearable today. I know I can't complain since we are in San Diego, but the problem is most places here, even the stores, don't have air conditioning. So when the intense heat of August hovers over this little town of ours I come to a standstill, sweating, complaining, and sitting in front of the fan. Pickett being the short nose pup he is can't even go on walks without getting heat stroke. But the heat will pass, and soon it will be that perfect time of summer, early September when the ocean is still warm and the tourists have gone home.