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9:26 PM5 times.
5 times we have had our hopes up.
5 times we have been let down.
As I sit around the mountain of half packed boxes it finally hit me. This is it. This is finally it. I let that feeling sink in .. and it's a good feeling. One I can't quite name. One of excitement, impatience, and a good bit of anxiety. I've had this wall up since the last time It fell through. I built each brick carefully. Not allowing myself to get too excited at each opportunity. To be honest, I felt that I was becoming a bit of a pessimist.
I tried to do it right. Well.. by traditional standards. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in an arm's reach mini convertible co-sleeper (or so I've been told).
Lets see... Love? Check. I've been with my fiance' since I was 15. Here I am 7-1/2 years later at the age of 23 , and for today's standards, that's along time for "kids" our age.
The next two steps maybe different for some. When I graduated there were a group of girls who all walked down the aisle to get there diploma with swollen bellies. And no they were not hiding a mini keg strapped to their torsos... sadly. They all seemed to get pregnant at the same time. They were in the same group of friends and swear that "they didn't do it on purpose!" *insert eye roll*
But for me I wanted to do my father proud. I was determined to not be a stigma of teenage pregnancy. Thus, I made the decision to do the steps in order.
Next. Marriage (pending).
My fiance' purposed to be in a very romantic way. Under this huge oak tree at the New Orleans Museum of Art that is covered in people size wind chimes. He got on one knee next to a very dear friend and... a tranny, but That's a story for another day. We've been engaged for 5-1/2 years so far and have moved the date more times than I can remember. Not that I don't want to get married, but weddings are not a cheap affair. They require a good bit of money. Even for a handy DIYer like myself. We've set the final date *fingers crossed* for this coming April and between that and what I am currently doing. Its more than a mouth full.
So we've come full circle. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm packing. If you call throwing things into plastic totes like a mad woman "packing"? We've tried getting our first home a few times and instead we ended up buying a pretty much useless piece of land surrounded by my in-laws that we can do nothing with. But its a "good investment" my inner adult tells. We've tried to build. We've tried to move temporary mobile homes on it until we could build. The answer was always the same. No. No. NO!
The good thing about not having a mountain of credit card bills, is having a little more change in your pocket. The bad thing... no credit. Its a life destroyer. After carefully taking steps to build what little credit I could we were able to finally qualify for a home. Not on my land, but at least its a start right? We close next week and the necessity of packing for the "big move" hit me like a wrecking ball. We have NOTHING done.
I pulled my hair up with a look of determination and a twinkle in my eye (Or was that a tear? I digress.) and began pulling out the totes. Immediately its like I had two lead weights attached to my ankles. Pulling me down like gravity got a double white mocha with an extra shot. It seems like when you have something important you have to do, your body automatically begins protesting. So far I've packed two toes full of books from my collection. Again using "packing" as a loose term... and started this blog. Guess I'm still figuring out my priorities and stumbling along life. I've had a few hiccups along the way, but who hasn't?
I guess there really is no cure for the hiccups...
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