As many of you know, my family just moved from Virginia to South Carolina, our 15th move in a little over two and a half decades—and hopefully our last for a very long time. Because of this, I am sorry that last week's blog didn't happen. I was up to my eyeballs in packing paper and still trying to memorize the randomly assigned Wi-Fi password printed in one-point font on the back of our new modem. I was also pleasantly allowing myself to be distracted by visits from my oldest daughter and grandson, the main reason we moved to begin with! Who wants to do anything else when the sweetest baby in the world is raising his arms to be lifted and snuggled. The rest of the world simply fades away at that moment.
Uprooting our entire lives again has been a taxing process, and inevitably, a few things have fallen through the cracks—like last week's blog. However, I am slowly getting on top of things once again, both personally and professionally.
I am pleased to report that every electronic device in my new home now automatically connects to the internet when booted up and I have no further need to remember the Wi-Fi password. My kitchen and linen closets are organized just how I want them. I accepted an invitation to be the speaker at a book club next month in North Carolina, and I am back on track with my blog. I am also well on my way to creating a new routine (which now includes babysitting duties - WAHOO!) and starting to feel settled—even though I am unpacking at a snail's pace.
My previous days of being able to qualify for the Olympic Unpacking Team are clearly over and things are taking a little longer this time, but I am okay with it. I am not a spring chicken anymore and am giving myself the grace to take breaks—lots of breaks. I am stopping regularly to pop Tylenol Arthritis caplets, stretch out when I need to, and to embrace my role as a grandmother. I even binge-watched the entire new season of Bridgerton while "taking a break." What a glorious break it was! (However, I do need to apologize to my oldest for watching without her. Darling, please forgive me for my Netflix cheating. I know I said I would watch it with you, but I had no self-control.)
Overall though, I must say, everything has gone swimmingly this move. We don't have any "you won't believe what happened" stories to add to our repertoire. That is a good thing. Our final Army move will be remembered as uneventful. Our truck arrived on time on both ends, the loading and unloading crews were polite and capable and even worked diligently without complaining despite the blistering heat. Nothing seems to be missing or damaged. The house is coming along nicely, and the unpacked to packed box ratio is improving daily despite my Netflix infidelity and creaking knees.
Today, for my birthday, I took a total break from unpacking and chose to tackle, in my opinion, the worst part about moving—"Household Administrative Duties," also known as HAD's. I spent more than three hours this morning updating my mailing address on all our online account profiles, transferring my auto insurance to the correct state, calling various businesses to take care of necessary things like pest control and lawn service, and requesting a formal change of address with the post office.
Everything went surprisingly smoothly for once. For the first time ever, I didn't have to spend countless hours on hold trying to reach an actual, live, in-the-flesh, human being to help me with some sort of problem. There was no confusion caused by language barriers, no irritation from annoying hold music, and the need "to speak to a manager" never arose.
There were even feelings of elation when I heard "you are number one in the queue," more than once and I hadn't even wasted an hour of my life watching the timer on my phone count up.
I wonder how many hours I have spent over the course of my life as an Army wife talking to utility and insurance companies and pleading with representatives to believe that I am who I say I am? How many times have I tried to politely explain to faceless phone operators that it is an act in futility to ask me to provide the phone number or zip code I first registered my initial account with because we have way too many in our history to keep track of them all? How many hours have I spent on hold, only to be disconnected just before the operator picked up? The answer to all of these questions is, "a lot" or "too much."
However, today I have a huge sense of satisfaction. I accomplished all that I set out to do, the first time. My internet never went down, I was not disconnected after any exorbitant wait times, and I didn't have any meltdowns. It was a birthday miracle! All my accounts, except the ones I inevitably forgot about, were switched over to my new address, and the best part is knowing I WON'T HAVE TO DO THIS AGAIN IN TWO YEARS! Hallelujah!
What do you think the worst part about moving is? Let me know in the comments!
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