Moving is very well, moving

Feeling all displaced and messy as one does when the stuff of daily life is uprooted and either packed or scattered around the loungeroom. On Sunday skulking around the house trying to pack I would have wailed but I don’t exactly know how. Just a low gutteral groan would have done, and was what was rising up out of my gut. Like putting pain into sound. Hyoaaaaaah. EWrrrrgh. Mngggggggggg. Mild level discomfort and low level continuous to-do-list-itis. I don’t like it. I don’t mind high level stress, you know, sheer face of emerging deadline and a zillion things to do swiftly – I quite like the exhileration of the spur of the moment response when your brain cells have to get firing swifty, or your hands have to quickly do a series of tasks and juggle things in the material world. But this extended smouldering stress of 2 weeks of house related logistics, involving complex negotiations of dates, and payments and form signings, and needing to be packing, and orgasnising things in advance, and canceling things and going through things and taking stuff to op shop bins and last social events with various mountain folks and work deadlines woven all amongst it so not letting me take proper days off and then dropping egg cartons to the co-op and sorting out my fucking spice cupboard, and doing it all alone, without a housemate or partner handily on hand to process with – to be honest, it’s quite crap. I sound off hand and grumpy but this morning I felt quite fragile, and yesterday quite melancholic, like that sadness that comes premenstrual before the cramps or anything else, when you just feel wistful and nostalgic and prone to tears (that is, I do). Hmm. But not long now, the wheels are turning, the point of no return has been reached in this birth process* between one phase and another. No going back now, I am partly slipping down to the bright lights and expectant faces of the city.

*Do babies feel this, dying people feel this? ‘Oh, not yet, I wasn’t quite done, I had all these things I had thought I would do here and you know, I’ve grown quite accustomed to this little cosy corner of the world, and the company was good, and I like being me here and I’m not sure what is waiting for me and whether I’m ready to move on and anyway what will it be like? I’m scared, what if it’s not nice, what if I’m not ready?’.