The U-Haul has been rented and we've lined up some muscle to load and unload the truck. Our target day to get Della and one dog moved is this Friday. Now we're in the throes of the hard part -- particularly for me: dismantling the house! The furniture that is going in the first move is being stacked in the dining room.
I realize this needs to be done and I've thrown myself into the work, but the very fact that our stuff isn't in its proper place is very disorienting to me. Our antique jelly cabinet and the painting of the English pub on the wall above have not moved -- well, until today -- from that spot in over six years. Now the wall is bare!
I realize that a person does not need to be autistic to feel out of place in your own home during a move. A lot of people are used to the familiar and, when the familiar becomes the unfamiliar, it is not unnatural to feel a bit out of sorts. But imagine how devastating this scenario is for someone who thrives on routine! I am the kind of bloke who freaks out if the dishes aren't placed just so on the shelves. If the mugs, glasses or plates are just a wee bit out of place, I compulsively pull everything out of the cabinet and then put them all back where they are "supposed" to go.
Within a few days, over 2/3 of our furniture and a good deal of our belongings will be trucked up to Ocean Shores. Once we get everything moved into the apartment, I will head back here to begin the real work of preparing for a large moving sale and cleaning the house as I go. And I will be doing this in house that will, in many ways, feel very foreign to me. My only saving grace is that my bedroom and computer room will each retain the same feel until just before I rejoin Della. I can retreat upstairs for a time each day and feel almost normal.