I dreamed last night about moving into my new house today. Except you know how dreams are. My dream offered up a couple of twists. I bought one house, but I had the choice of two.
The first choice was on Lake Michigan. It was a ranch-style house built in the 60s that had never been remodeled. It was carpeted in dark carpet, and the walls were dark paneling. It felt dark and cozy. The refrigerator was a Whirlpool, but it was round. When I opened it, the inside was on a carousel. It was colorful and beautiful, and I thought that this would do for awhile. I walked through the house and was not very excited about what I saw. It seemed like I’d have to do a lot to lighten things up and make it mine. But it had lots of storage and most of the modern conveniences that I’d need.
I walked on to the carport and looked out at the lake. It wasn’t Lake Michigan. It was the waters of Louisiana. The water came within 6 inches of the patio, and I could feel my anxiety rise wondering if that “lake” ever rose. “I’m right in it even before I begin,” I said to myself. I looked at that murky, muddy water and decided I needed to look at the second option. This house seemed risky and heavy and not really my style.
The second house was a bungalow not unlike the one I’m actually scheduled to close on today. It was light and airy and simply done. The sun streamed in the windows, and I thought that I liked this one better. There would be lots of work to be done. There were no remodels or modern conveniences. It had the basics like indoor plumbing and a laundry area, but there was plenty to buy. As I looked around in the closets and cabinets, it was obvious that the women before me had not moved out. Her clothes hung in the bathroom as if it was laundry day. The kitchen was full of glasses and plates and assorted cookware. My realtor picked up the phone to call her, and she didn’t seem at all interested in coming back to get that stuff. If I wanted this one, I had to move her out to move in or accept her things as mine. That didn’t seem quite right either.
I’m so ready to get moved in today. This last week has been really hard, and I’m at my limit. In fact, I feel like I’m past my limit. After Saturday’s breakdown I had another yesterday. My emotions can only take so much, and I’m not sleeping either. Work doesn’t stop coming like a freight train regardless of whether I have to move or not. I feel isolated out here because of the lack of cell service. I can get it if I walk down the street, but the mosquitoes are so bad I can’t stand outside more than a couple of minutes. Yesterday afternoon I drove down the road and parked in a parking lot to call a friend and cried my eyes out the entire time we were on the phone. It felt good to be heard.
I slept better last night. Given that I dreamed I know I got some good sleep. I’ll pack things up here this morning and head over to my closing. The movers arrive 30 minutes after I’m done, and I’ll spend the day in that mountain of work. I’ll drive back over here tonight and pick up my animals for our first night in the new house – unless there’s some reason I need to stay here. Today, I have movers coming, an HVAC vendor and ATT for internet service. It will be full bore today, and tomorrow I go right back to work. The rest of this week will be a blur. I’m dying for the weekend.
In my dream, I chose between Louisiana and this life. Unfortunately, this life is filled with the clothes of Sharon past. While there are wonderful things here, I’m a different person than I was 13 years ago when I was here. I have to somehow let go of those old expectations that Sharon had on herself and encourage the new me to show up instead. Or perhaps it should be more of an integration. I need to take time and sort out what fits and what doesn’t – decide what serves me now and what doesn’t. The rest needs to be put on the curb.
In my dream I was happy to see the previous tenant left a lawnmower in the garage. “I’ll need that,” I told my dreamtime realtor. I just hope a lawnmower will be enough to clean out the weeds of the past. This morning I feel like a bush hog is a more appropriate piece of equipment for the task. The only way out is through.
Gotta go, folks. I gotta get packing. Send lots of positive energy my way.