It was a tough weekend. For a good day and a half, I just wandered around looking at boxes, not knowing what to do next, and wishing I could cry about it. But I didn't cry. I didn't really do anything except talk and talk and talk with Adam about what the next step for us would be. Should we stay put (our landlord said we could) or find another rental or buy a foreclosed home and fix it up or bury our heads in the sand? What do you do when you have no idea what to do? Stay put. And that's what we're doing.
But let me say, unpacking most of our stuff just to put it right back where it came from is oh-so depressing. Most of it is still packed and our house is in disarray. I'll take care of it eventually -- right after I write my Curator article, start working on my syllabus, pack for vacation, get an oil change for my car, and bake something for the bake sale I'm missing this weekend. In the meantime, we're still keeping our eyes and ears open for another rental, though we're in no hurry to move. After this whirlwind experience, slow sounds good -- delicious, even.
Thankfully, we're getting out of dodge on Saturday. A week away will be fabulous!