Boxes are packed, ready to go

It’s a calm before a storm. My homework is all but complete, just a presentation and paper and I will be graduated. The apartment that we de-wallpapered, painted and lived in for three years is mostly empty. Just memories, many good, some I’d rather forget. We successfully loaded our POD with all that we won’t need for six months. Well, we are using some stuff until Tuesday, like the mattress, then it will be PODded. (I just made our storage unit into a verb. Yes it needs an extra “d” because POD is one syllable.)

The rest will come to my parents house in the car and truck. Ah yes, we are moving in with the parents. To be fair, they planned for this when they built their house. We’ll have our own “wing,” which sounds so fancy when it really is just a portion of the house that is sectioned off for guests. California people, remember homes are bigger in Utah and contain things like basements.

It does mean that we will have access to a washing machine and bathroom of our own. What they thought was genius planning might just be poor planning on my parents part.   My own washing machine I can use any time of day, no quarters needed? My mom’s cooking with no curfew? I may never move out.

The idea is that hopefully when we do move out, it is after being in escrow. Whenever I hear the word “escrow,” I want to pronounce it ESK-ER-OH, like Luke’s brother-in-law does in Gilmore Girls. This prospect has me pinning images of homes like crazy.

My last blog post was such a downer, so I wanted to put something up that was happier. Truly, I am giddy happy. But I’m also full of goodbyes right now and honoring that. It is as if I just finished a book trilogy, and while I’m excited to start the next series waiting on the shelf, the words from the previous are still fresh.