It's one week until my man swoops in here and moves me there, and I have so many thoughts and emotions battling around within me, that I'm a bit of a bundle of nerves, and also very easily irritated because why are people asking me stupid questions when I have to figure out how many boxes will fit into whatever cubic feet of space that truck is? Also, the procrastinator in me (which takes up about 82% of my body) is losing its battle with the other parts (the daydreaming part, the organized part, etc) and is staging a coo. It's forcing other projects upon me through some bizarre procrastination universal pull, and those projects are taking entirely too much time and consuming more energy than they should. So I decided to take a few minutes and reflect on all of the reasons this internal torture and external upheaval of all my stuff is so worth it, and then I thought to myself, "hey, what if I shared those very good reasons with everyone, and that way I can simultaneously ease my mind and embarrass my man at the same time by writing it all over the interwebs!!!"

Ten random things, in no particular order:

1. I receive messages throughout the day, quoting very solid facts about important things, like how brewing coffee in a brand new loft apartment makes it 14% more delicious (this morning's fact). Made much more important if you realize that coffee is necessary to my very survival...more on that in a bit.

2. When I freak out about stuff, and decide that I am not going to talk to anyone so go away and leave me alone, and yes, that means even you, he somehow finds the perfect balance between giving me space and sending me messages just sweet enough to coax me from my shell, built of stubborn and ick.

3. The conversation we had where I finally told him I was ready to move, I could hear him smiling in such a way that I wanted to jump through the phone at that moment just to see if it was half as cute as it sounded. That is a conversation I will never forget, because it is the only time in my life I have ever said one sentence to someone and made them that happy.

4. He goes behind my back and talks to my family about how he will make sure I stay in touch better (because I am terrible terrible terrible about that)

5. He will no longer have to get up before me, run to Starbucks and come back before I've even gotten out of bed, because he knows I'll be cranky if I don't have my coffee first thing. I, in fact, have my sweet espresso machine that I will be moving into our place, because he gave it to me.

6. He is more than willing to put up with all of my idiosyncrasies convictions about my home...there are too many to list here, but perhaps in a later post. I will say that one is no tv in the bedroom, and that's a big one, considering we will now have 2 large flat screens, so one of them will be relegated to the spare bedroom/office.

7. He happens to have the most amazing family of sweet, generous and thoughtful people, and a group of friends who I get to inherit by default...totally lucked out on that. It makes moving away from everything and everyone I know so well much less scary.

8. While I have been avoiding the practical matters of the move, and instead have found it useful (in my own head) to find things to focus on, like new bedding! and towels! he has taken it upon himself to actually book a plane ticket to fly here, and a truck with which to move all of my stuff. I'm pretty sure the move wouldn't happen based on whether or not we find 500 thread count sheets that are appropriately cute, so that's probably good.

9. I'm going to sleep really, really well. I have ridiculous insomnia. It comes and goes, and is particularly fierce when I'm stressed out. In the two years we've been together, I've had trouble sleeping once while we were in the same place. Once. That is miraculous.

10. Before he realized I was seriously considering the move, he tried to entice me with various bribes. We have ummmm differing opinions about what dogs are cute. I will always have a dog, it just makes home feel homier for me. My dog is getting older, and I'm trying to accept the fact that she will not, in fact, outlive me. We have discussed getting another dog when that day comes, and hit a stalemate because I have a thing for the smush-faced dogs. I had a Shar-Pei, who I thought was the cutest thing ever, I love bulldogs. He thinks they are uncute, which is just ridiculous. He promised me I could get whatever smush-faced dog I wanted. Bribery is awesome. That dog will look a little something like this:



As a compromise, I think we should name him Fletcher.