Our life got packed up into boxes on Wednesday, and I’m quickly learning how much I miss our stuff already. All of the things we worked so hard to acquire the last four years, all packed up within hours. Walking past these empty rooms, listening to my footsteps echo is weird. This house is no longer a home.
I’ll catch myself going to look for something and soon realizing that it has been packed. Luckily we have amazing friends who were willing to loan us baby toys, pots, pans, sheets, and pillows, so we didn’t have to shove them in the three suitcases we are living out of at the moment. I don’t mind living out of a suitcase; I don’t mind living in one room versus the entire house. What bothers me the most is how slowly the hours are going by. Trying to entertain my daughter who seems to get bored with every activity I put in front of her within minutes is challenging when I’m trying to paint over my gorgeous murals in each room. My life is interestingly uninteresting if that makes any sense. I’m going through stuff ordinary civilians don’t understand, yet every military spouse understands completely. The struggle is REAL!
For those of you who are curious we are living in this empty house for fifteen days, then off to the Hotel (TLF) for twelve days. THEN finally on a plane to Japan. Hotel again until we find a home, and an empty house again until we finally get our House Hold Goods and the movers unpack our stuff. It’s a vicious circle, my friends.