There are some things that I know to be true above all others. For instance: Ice tea is proven to be better when unsweetened, red pandas will never be anything other than completely adorable, snow is magical until it turns to sleet, and if you had told me a month ago I’d be spending New Years Eve in-flight, with two kittens, two parents, and an imminent New York move on the horizon I would have told you to stop taking laudanum for your “headaches.”
And yet, here I am, sandwiched between two sleeping cats and fresh from carting heaps of Target supplies, in the rain, to my new Brooklyn apartment. I mean what the WHAT!
It’s surreal and nerve-wracking and completely exciting. At least I know it will be exciting when all the nitty, gritty details of moving across the country have been finalized and unpacked.
As it turns out, whether I’m moving from Orange County to Los Angeles or across the country, I’m still the same ball of stress over the same little things. When will the moving boxes of all my animal sweaters arrive? How soon can I unpack everything? What is snow? How does anyone ever have good hair in all this rain? What if I break my leg, how will I use the subway? You know, the usual stuff Mr. Rochester’s first wife Bertha, from Jane Eyre, was thinking while locked in the attic.
And in the moments when I’m trudging through rain with a liter box full of towels, longing for the soccer field next to my apartment to be filled with beautiful soccer players instead of snow, I’ll remember, Oh yeah, I start a new job on Monday. I can’t stay at home in pajamas forever, I actually have to learn what day of the week it is and travel to places on time. It’s for the best; a few more days of this unemployed routine and I would have just transitioned right into retirement and menopause without even realizing it.
So all in all, the new year is off to a running start and I’m just along for the rather cold, Brooklyn bound ride. Cheers to 2015!