Where the heck have I been?!? If you check in often, then you know that Brad and I moved into a fantabulous new house about three weeks ago. (On May 17, to be exact, which also happened to be our 8th anniversary.) The process of getting unpacked, putting everything away in its ‘perfect’ place, personalizing the house (a.k.a. removing every iota of visible brass, among other things), doing some necessary repairs, and acclimating to life in suburbia has been all-consuming in an exciting, but totally exhausting, way. So much so that I feel like I haven’t stopped since about May 13th. And when I do, I promptly fall asleep. That is, until about 3:30 a.m. when our cat decides she must scratch incessantly on the door to an unexplored room, leaving us with about four hours of sleep a night. I swear she has lost two pounds since we moved, which is a lot of weight on already meager 8-pound cat! But, I digress.
Those who know me well know that I revel in routine. In fact, my second blog post ever was dedicated to it! As you’ve already guessed, my life for the past month has been anything but. I’ve spent every waking hour either working in my office or in the house. Early marathon training started without me. I haven’t blogged in over a week. I haven’t run since Memorial Day. Pancake Friday is on hold. We don’t have dinner at the same five places where everyone knows our name, or at least our order.
What do you get when you combine a sleep-deprived, routine-deprived, over-worked, runner girl who hasn’t run in over a week? A basketcase.
Even though I love our new house, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that I was homesick. I had a complete breakdown when the time came to turn in the keys to our old house. I was so emotional that I could barely speak; Brad offered to delay turning over possession for another day; and I actually hugged our house goodbye. I even left a note to the new owners in which I told them to take good care of her. Please don’t judge me.
When the time came to travel to Baton Rouge for work this week, I was almost looking forward to it. I might get a real night of eight hours of sleep. I wouldn’t have to make any decisions about light fixtures, ceiling fans, home decor, furniture placement, or room organization. I could hunker down and focus on work.
When I got here, a funny thing happened . . . all I wanted was to go home. I miss the views, the quietness, the pool, the crazy cats, and the warm, friendly people we keep meeting. I miss going to three home improvement stores a night. I miss the excitement of making the house feel like home. I miss watching the cats wear themselves out exploring the house. I miss seeing Brad pour himself into projects around house. And, I turned into that person who can’t stop talk about my house. As we de-planed yesterday, the guy who’d been sitting next to me said, “Good luck with the house. It sounds great!” Uh-oh.
You know that feeling when you wake up in a new place still groggy and disoriented? For a split second – or two – you think you’re at home? When that happened to me this morning, I thought I was in the new house. I would have sworn that I saw the carpet and bay window in our bedroom, and I started to walk around the front of the bed to the bathroom (which, in my hotel room, was just another wall). When I really woke up and remembered where I was, instead of being disappointed, I was relieved. Realizing that our new house finally feels like home made me smile.
So, here’s to being homesick. And only having to be gone for a few days! 🙂
xoxo ~your busy little B