What moving is teaching me(from boxes to cupcakes)
What moving is teaching me
A cupcake is not a cupcake if it’s not in a paper liner, is it? And certainly not if it’s pumpkin. After all, pumpkin is a vegetable. And cream cheese icing is cheese, after all. Not healthy per se, but it would have been in the 70s.
I have 1 dozen pumpkin cupcakes to eat and a 13×9 pan of pumpkin cake. All smothered in cream cheese icing. I have no cupcake papers, and I threw out one of my cupcake pans, so I did not have enough pans to make 24 cupcakes. So now I have 12 cupcakes and one cake. I baked them to take to Bible study brunch, but I never made it there.
See here’s the problem. I’m moving. Yes, this is why my blog is getter posted later each week. I usually blog on Mondays, if you didn’t know. Monday I was–I don’t know–Monday I was probably frantic. Tuesday I was frantic. Today I’m frantic, but I need a break from packing and reading and writing. So I’m writing this blog. I know, it doesn’t make sense.
See, I’m also in graduate school. I’m taking 4 classes. Yes, that was a little much. I felt quite ambitious in September. So I’m reading and writing and thinking my brains out in between all the boxes and the cupcakes.
I spend time each morning administrating the transfer to the next house (I’d forgotten how many details there are!), which I’m going to be renovating just a bit (is that possible?), which is really the reason I’m crazy.
Moving is teaching me a couple things about myself that I’d forgotten. Ten, at the moment.
- Multi-taskers shine during a move. I’m in awe of myself. But I’m also deciding that I no longer like multi-tasking. I want to lie on the sofa and tell my people I can’t get them a drink because I can only do one thing at a time. (Hey, it works for them.)
- I have way too much junk. And I’m even a purger. I clean stuff out regularly, but this is disgraceful. I was in the BACK of the attic today–where no one should ever go–and I found old camera boxes and VCR boxes and a crib. There was a major time warp going on. I found a whole tub of lighthouse decor–I’ve been saving it in case I ever got a beach house! (haha)–and I uncovered all my precious bulletin board stuff from my teaching years in the 90s! The 90s, people–when I permed my hair so it radiated at least 3 inches from my head in all directions. Shell collections, rock collections, Legos, rocking horses. I’m not done, but I did work my way to the furthest eaves. The good thing about working in the attic is that I’m too tired to be sentimental.
- I am a perfectionist. I already knew that, but you’d think it would go on vacation when you’re moving. But perfectionism digs in more every time you’re overwhelmed. It’s analyzing my boxes (they’re tidy), my organization (I have 2 folders and 1 master calendar), and my living space (it’s still neat on the main floor). Somehow, that sentence gives me pleasure in saying it. Perfectionists can’t function in a mess. They will go stark raving mad. I can’t afford that; I’m the only one holding this move together.
- Baking calms me. We’ve been eating whatever dinner I can find in the freezer. My residents aren’t happy, but that’s the deal. I can live awhile without delicious meals, but I do miss having time to bake. So I made all that pumpkin cake last night, and then I didn’t take it to brunch today. But I ate several cupcakes on behalf of my Bible study.
- I am spiritually tired. When you’re mentally tired from writing and physically tired from packing and sorting, you get spiritually tired. Or maybe you get spiritually tired because you’re too busy doing all those mental and physical activities that you don’t make the time to meditate, pray, or have devotions. Anyway, I’m tired, and I miss God. I wish He’d help me pack some boxes. I should pray while I pack tomorrow.
- NO! There I go, multi-tasking again. And with God, of all people. I really am a terrible person. Terribly, spiritually tired. But moving will do that–it will make you understand yourself. You see what’s important and what’s not, and you wonder why in the world you thought moving was a good idea. That’s Number 7: I have a lot of good ideas that are 10 times harder than I think they’re going to be. I don’t know if that makes me an optimist or an idiot.
- I have some good friends. Some of them have been checking on me. Tomorrow, one is coming to help me. Moving really separates your categories of friends. It’s not that you have good ones and bad ones. They’re all good. Just not everyone comes over and helps you pack. (And not everyone should!) They know that about me, so only the perfectionists will show up.
- My artistic, nature-loving self is getting squirmy inside with all these boring brown boxes. I want to play in the leaves or take another art class. Oh–Monday I went to the apple orchard. See, I had to do something artsy. I needed to wash my hair, put on normal clothes, and enjoy the fall for a few hours. Or the stark raving mad thing would happen. And then where would I be? Not perfect.
- I’m an all-in kind of person. My mom would say I bite off more than I can chew. But that’s because she was also a perfectionist, and she did the very same kinds of things that I do. Both of us like to have our fingers in many pots. Right now mine are in about 10, but I’m focusing most on 2 of them: moving and grad school. Cupcakes were just a necessary diversion. You might call it stress eating, but we’ll just say that I’m exuberant and positive. And I am positive that I have been exuberantly stress eating.
- Moving makes me feel a little adventuresome. Mostly exhausted and anxious, but with a dollop of excitement. We’re starting something new. We’re daring to live in a new neighborhood, meet new neighbors, and make new memories in a new house. It’s not a big deal, but it kind-of is. I think it’s an overflow from a year of new things for me.
Why not go out with a bang, right before Christmas?
Yes, I’m moving 2 weeks before Christmas. Because I seem hell-bent on going stark raving mad.